Game of Mirrors
by Patient Harmony
Summary: Continuation of 'What Lies Behind the Mirror'. Some Nations are seeing strange versions of themselves in the mirrors. And someone decided that it's a good opportunity to start a game. But not everything is as it seems.
1. Chapter 1: Distorted Reflection

**Finally! I know people have been waiting for me, but my OCD would not allow me to post something without there being ten chapters in reserve. Which is a good thing, because I had to rewrite five times before I can be satisfied.**

**Also, a few warnings. I'm not going to go with the typical fanon interpretations of the 2P's, except perhaps for the more popular ones. I like to do things my way. I also have a tendency to focus on characters that don't get a lot of attention in either canon or fanon. There will also be a few OCs, both 1P and 2P. And in the story itself, I won't be referring to '1P' or '2P'. And no, there won't be any pairings. If you want to accept that I'm hinting at something, then it's up to your own interpretation.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia.**

**Chapter 1: Distorted Reflection**

_The board has been set._

_Who shall move first?_

_Tradition dictates that White moves first._

_...And then, the game begins._

…

He blinked in surprise, before he smirked.

Felic Łukasiewicz, also known as Poland, had been sipping a glass of wine, courtesy of the Frenchman sitting beside him, when he saw an unusual reflection in the wineglass. He always drank whatever alcohol was available before a meeting, but he never got drunk. He didn't indulge enough for him to become drunk, but just enough for the others to become more tolerable.

The reflection had shoulder-length blond hair, while Felic's hair was black. The other also had green eyes, full of fire, while Felic's eyes were a pale blue and resembled ice. He couldn't see the rest of the reflection, but he was almost sure that the clothes would be different as well. Felic wore a dark blue dress shirt with black slacks and black shoes. A few months ago, Romano had managed to get everyone to dress properly for meetings, much to the chagrin of many Nations. Felic was one of the few that managed to get away with wearing his usual attire.

He heard the Frenchman beside him hum, and he looked to see the other looking at his wineglass thoughtfully.

"Strange reflection?" Poland asked, smirking playfully.

France looked at him with a calculating look before he nodded his head.

"I think I read something in one of Romania's books," Poland continued. "I think we might be glimpsing a mirror world."

"And why would it matter?" France asked, bored.

Felic looked at the Frenchman. He wore his usual wine red suit, but it was a bit unkempt and fitted loosely. Romano had tried to get the Frenchman to look more decent, but he didn't care. He had stubble, as though he hadn't shaved in days, and there were dark rings under his blue-grey eyes. His blond hair was a mess, and there seemed to be a few tangles in the dirty blond waves. Under normal circumstances there would be a cigarette in his mouth, but Veneziano had insured that no one smoked in the meetings.

"Well, think about the possibility," Poland said. "If we could _speak_ to them, or even go over to their world… Just think about how they can be tortured, verbally and physically."

France looked at him, a bored look in his eyes.

"No thanks," Francois said.

"Not even as part of a game?"

Now, the Frenchman looked intrigued.

"As in, one of _your_ games?" France asked.

Poland smirked, knowing he had him. His games were well known, and he had a reputation as a master of games. He has broken several Nations. France was on the receiving end of one of his games, and was still wary. But, while being on the receiving end was something that everyone feared, being a participant… A rare occurrence, but something that they all enjoyed. There was always a victim.

"I'll think about it," Francois said.

"Excellent, and I will have a word with Romania," Poland said.

He wanted to play with the one reflected in the mirror. He wanted to snuff out the fire in the other's eyes. After all, it has been so long since he played a game that he actually enjoyed. What was the use of playing with something that was bent, twisted, snapped or broken?

…

After the meeting, they all proceeded to return to their hotel rooms. Poland lingered behind, hoping to speak to Romania, since he was the most comfortable with that particular member of the magic trio, considering they were practically neighbours. And Poland might have also asked a few times in the past for a few magical favours. Such as getting a sparkly rainbow unicorn, or being turned into a girl for a few hours, or turning himself completely pink…

Yeah, there were a few ridiculous requests in the past.

He looked into the small mirror he always carried around with him, and, sure enough, his reflection was distorted, and it wasn't looking at him. It looked like he was speaking with someone that looked remarkably like France, only very unkempt. Feliks looked over his shoulder, and France was nowhere near him.

Yes, he needed to ask Romania about the strange reflection.

Then there was the other reflection he saw. Whose was it again? Poland thought hard, but he just could not remember who the Nation was. He couldn't remember the name, or even the face. But, how was that possible?

Perhaps France would know. He now had to speak to _two_ Nations. But first, he had to find them.

…

As soon as the meeting was finished, Poland sought out Romania. It didn't take too long to find said Nation. He was with England and Norway, which was very convenient for the dark-haired man.

England had light blond hair with a pinkish tint. Thanks to Romano, he had to wear a normal blue suit which was a few shades darker than his eyes. He usually had a cheerful expression on his face.

Norway had pure white hair and lively blue eyes. He was also forced to wear a suit, but his was dark green, several shades darker than his preferred outfit. He was very cheerful and outgoing, and he and England were often found causing mischief together.

Romania, on the other hand, completely contradicted the other two. He wore his usual attire, which was also a suit, but instead of a suit one would find for meetings, this suit was made of the finest black silk that one would expect at a party. His black hair reached just beyond his shoulders and was tied back in a low ponytail, except for the front, which framed his pale face, and it made his red eyes stand out more. Unlike the other two, who were cheerful and loved to cause mischief, he was sombre and serious. He kept the trio balanced. And he protected the other two. No matter how much the other two angered the other Nations, once they sought out Romania's protection, no one was willing to cross them.

Friendships were rare among them, but the magic trio were definitely friends, and no one was willing to take on all three of them at the same time.

Poland checked in the glass again, just to be sure, and he saw the blonde reflection, looking around desperately for something or someone. It didn't matter much, anyway. He just needed to know that it was there.

He smirked and approached the trio. Once they saw him, they were immediately on guard. Romania had been on the receiving end of one of Poland's games, once. Now, he craved the taste of blood.

That was another thing about the magic trio. They had cannibalistic tendencies. Romania enjoyed the taste of blood, Norway the taste of skin, and England preferred grinding up the organs and using them as an ingredient in his cupcakes. The magic trio are the only ones that can eat it, though.

"What is it, Polonia?" Romania immediately demanded.

Poland's smirk widened.

"I'd like to know something," Poland said. "What are the odds of seeing a mirror world?"

Romania's eyes narrowed.

"What do you mean?" he demanded.

"Come with me to the bathroom and you will see," Poland said.

The important thing to know when dealing with the magic trio was that they were quite curious. Arouse their curiosity, and you gain their undivided attention. And cooperation.

…

Poland couldn't find Romania _or_ France, and had given up looking through the conference building. He really hoped to find them before they returned to the hotel. He had no idea where either of them were staying, and he couldn't really ask around. He hated speaking to strangers, unless he really had to.

As he exited the building, he couldn't suppress the shudder that raced down his spine. He couldn't help but feel that someone was watching him.

He was startled when he felt a tug on his shirt. He turned around, but when he saw that there wasn't someone behind him he looked down, where a familiar face was looking up at him. He recognised him as Moldova, Romania's younger brother.

"Hey," Poland said, smiling softly.

He didn't know Moldova too well, but he didn't feel too uncomfortable. After all, he was still a little kid.

"Hello, mister Poland," Moldova greeted. "Did you see my big brother anywhere?"

"Nie," Poland said. Seeing the other's eyes begin to tear up, he immediately felt bad. "But, I think he's, like, back at the hotel. You don't know which room he's staying in, like, do you?"

Moldova sniffled and nodded.

"Come on, Moldova," Poland said, taking the younger's hand. "Like, I need to find Romania too. I totally need to have a chat with him."

"About what?"

"Like, I don't know yet, but I totally need to see him. Something's been bugging me, and I totally need to ask him about it."

"You're not going to ask him to turn you into a girl _again_, are you?"

"Nie… Not this time."

…

Poland dragged the magic trio towards a bathroom that he knew no one would be occupying at the moment. Firstly, because it was a distance away from the meeting room, and secondly, because most of the Nations would have returned to their hotel rooms to get rid of the formal clothes they were forced to wear.

As soon as they entered, they saw that the image in the mirror shifted, and the blond version of Poland came into view. The magic trio immediately paused, surprised by what they saw. Poland smirked, seeing that he didn't have to explain too much.

"Polonia," Romania said. "How…?"

"Don't know," Poland said, shrugging. "Just looked in a wineglass, saw my reflection was blond, decided to ask you three about this."

They saw the blond Poland exiting the building that looked quite bright. They were surprised to see that the street the other stepped onto was very busy. He was also ignored by the humans. It was as though they didn't even know that he was a Nation. Or didn't care.

"I think we need to check our books," Romania said, staring at the other Poland.

They saw a young child tug on the other Poland's shirt. They saw the exchange between the two. And they only started to feel more and more curious, until…

"Wait a minute," Romania said. "That child is _Moldova_?"

"I thought you hate each other?" Norway said.

"We do," Romania said, before his eyes widened. "Mirrors show everything in reverse, right? Well then, maybe everything there is the opposite from here."

"Probably," Poland said. "Anyway, just think how much fun it would be to play with them."

"Wait a minute," England said. "Playing with them? As in, one of your games?"

"Tak. All we need to do is figure out how to get there. And then, we can play. Personally, I'd like to extinguish the fire in the other's eyes."

"I wonder," Romania said, "would _my_ counterpart be upset if I hurt his little brother? That way, I can torture my little brother too. It would be a win-win situation."

"Ooh," Norway said. "I wonder, how would they taste? Would they taste like us, or someone different?"

England and Romania looked contemplative, while Poland merely looked disgusted.

"That is seriously gross," Poland said. "But, do what you want. If you manage to break them, then by all means, go ahead. Just don't ask me to be a part of _that_."

"Don't worry," Romania said, smirking, his red eyes lighting up with the familiar sadistic gleam. "If we manage to cross over, then we have a whole new world of Nations to torture. And the possibilities of what we can do to them are endless. How long before they break, anyway?"

"Hopefully long," Poland said. "Wouldn't want them to break _too_ soon, would we?"

…

As soon as Canada arrived at his room, he was immediately met with a red-violet gaze. The truth was, he merely saw the mirror. No one could enter their hotel rooms without immediately looking at the dresser with the mirror. They were startled a few times, but they had gotten used to it. And, since it was the last night, it didn't matter for much longer.

But for Matthew, it was different. For the last six months he had seen an alternate version of himself, Matt, with red-violet eyes, while Matthew's was blue-violet. He had formed a friendship with the one on the other side of the mirror. They did have a lot in common, being Canada and all. But the differences were also important to note, and the differences were what caused Matthew to avoid mirrors for a while. But they had made peace with the differences, and now were friends.

Matt smirked when he saw his quieter counterpart.

"About time you showed up," he said. "I've been waiting for a while now."

"You could have changed," Matthew said, laughing slightly.

The other was still wearing the black suit he was forced to wear at meetings.

"Yeah, well," Matt said, "I didn't want you to walk in on me while I got changed."

"You mean, like what you did to _me_ a few times?" Matthew teased.

"Maybe... Not my fault, though."

Matthew chuckled before he made himself comfortable on the seat in front of the dresser. Matt had already done the same thing, and they prepared themselves for a long chat.

For, in reality, they were each other's only friends.

…

Matthew had to step out for a while to get something to eat. Matt was grateful, since that gave him the opportunity to get out of the monkey suit. He shrugged on the Mountie uniform he usually wore. He couldn't understand what Romano's problem was with his uniform. A lot of the other Nations wore their uniforms, and _they_ were allowed to wear their uniforms at meetings.

No matter how much time passed, they were still uncomfortable getting changed in front of the other. Even though they would basically be getting dressed in front of themselves, it still felt awkward. They preferred to respect each other's privacy, and it was also a reassurance for both of them. Matthew was shy, whereas Matt was just uncomfortable. He had scars all over his body that he wasn't in the mood to explain to Matthew.

It was funny. A few months ago, when they first started to see each other through the mirrors, Matt wasn't too thrilled. He would yell and curse at Matthew and he would break any mirrors. He hated the look in the other's eyes. They were unfamiliar to him. The first few weeks, Matthew was terrified of him.

Then, one day, when Matt looked in a mirror, Matthew wasn't looking back at him. But he was still there. It took a few minutes of Matthew not responding for Matt to realise that he was seeing the other's life. He would never admit it, but he was curious, and so allowed himself to watch Matthew for a while.

The first thing Matt noticed was that he was kind to animals. Matt was also kind to animals (one of his best kept secrets), and most of his victims were poachers, who _dared_ to harm _his_ wildlife. So, Matthew managed to get his respect in that regard.

The second thing Matt noticed was that Matthew's people adored him. They didn't seem to know about Matthew being a Nation, or didn't care about it, and treated him the same they treated everyone else. At first, Matt was a little upset, having grown up believing that humans are inferior to Nations, and that they should fear you. But, after watching and seeing that there were no attempts on Matthew's life, he grudgingly admitted that it seemed nice. He at least was respected, just in a different way, and for different reasons.

The last thing Matt noticed was the thing that managed to win his respect. He had assumed that Matthew was feeble and meek. That all changed once he saw the gentle Canadian play hockey. He didn't think that the other was capable of that level of aggression. It also made him excited. For the first time, he saw an opponent that would prove a challenge at his favourite sport. And that was the first time he had a desire to go to the other's world.

As time wore on, he no longer broke the mirrors, and he no longer chased the other away. He still wasn't exactly friendly, but it was still better than the way he used to treat Matthew. They started to learn more about each other. And Matt finally realised what the look in Matthew's eyes were. The emotions behind the blue-violet orbs were compassion, kindness, and gentleness. There was also sorrow and loneliness, but Matt couldn't understand how those emotions managed to invade the purple orbs. Surely, one such as Matthew was well-liked in a world that seemed infinitesimally brighter than Matt's?

He was wrong.

When there was a world meeting in Matthew's world that didn't coincide with Matt's, the other decided to see how his counterpart interacted with the other Nations in his world.

Never before had he experienced so much rage.

Matthew remained unseen and unheard, despite his best efforts, and Matt could tell that he was trying. And, when they _did_ see him, it was to either ask who he was, a question so often repeated, or to mistake him for America. How could anyone mistake a Canadian for an American?!

That was the second time he experienced a desire to go to that world. So that he could teach the others a lesson in what happens if you ignore a Canadian.

Matt experienced sympathy for the first time when he saw a tear roll down Matthew's cheek during the meeting. No one else saw the tear.

At first, Matt thought that he was growing soft, that he was losing his touch. That thought was quickly dismissed at the next meeting. He still felt the same aggression towards the other Nations, if not more. He felt angry that Matthew was subjected to such emotional neglect, and if he couldn't take out the anger on the Nations of Matthew's world, then he would enjoy taking it out on the Nations in _his_ world.

It was later, when he interrogated Matthew about how they could interact with each other, that he learned the truth. It was a spell that Matthew cast. Now, Matt may not know too much about magic, but he knew that one had to have the magic touch. Something that Matt didn't have. The only other way was if one was truly desperate for the outcome. And once Matt heard which spell was used, he could feel what was left of his heart clench.

_A friend that knows your other side._

…

When Romania opened the door to his hotel room, he was surprised to see Poland standing there, Moldova beside him.

"Big brother!" Moldova called out, leaping onto his brother, who wrapped his arms around him.

Romania grunted in surprise from the force suddenly leaping at him. He looked over to Poland.

"He asked you to help him find me, didn't he?" Romania asked, rubbing his brother's shoulders fondly.

"It was totally no problem," Poland replied. "I was actually, like, looking for you as well."

Romania narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

"It's not another sparkly pink unicorn, is it?"

"Nie. It's totally serious. You're, like, the only member of the magic trio that I feel totally comfortable enough with."

Romania frowned in confusion, before he looked down at Moldova.

"Could you give us some privacy?" he asked gently. "I'll find you when we're finished."

Moldova nodded his head before returning to his own room. Romania then turned to Poland.

"Alright," Romania said. "What is it?"

Poland took a deep breath.

"I need to know what's on the other side of a mirror."

**When I thought about 2P Poland, I didn't want to take the macho approach many others take. So instead, I took Poland's impulsive personality, his inability to think things through, and his unfortunate habit of being taken advantage of, and I flipped it. So now, 2P Poland sees everything as a game and plans strategies, and the other Nations are merely pieces in the game for him to use.**

**Romania's 2P is supposed to be your basic Dracula stereotype.**


	2. Chapter 2: Familiar Strangers

**Thanks to ForgottenAngerCourter, Miss Akiyata, Gort and Kodamnation for reviewing.**

**There's an OC in this chapter, that isn't a 2P.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia.**

**Chapter 2: Familiar Strangers**

_Has all the pieces been assembled?_

_Not yet. There are still those that need to become a part of the game._

_We shall wait for all the pieces before we begin to play._

…

Romania blinked in surprise.

"What are you talking about?" Romania asked.

Poland sighed.

"Like, when I checked my mirror before the meeting," Poland began, "I saw a totally out of whack reflection. Can't remember _whose_ reflection. France saw it too. And then, I saw my own reflection, but it, like, wasn't me. It _almost_ looked like me, but it wasn't me. I know for a fact my hair isn't black, and my eyes aren't blue."

Romania frowned, before something in the back clicked into place. His eyes widened marginally.

"We need to get the other two," Romania said, rushing past Poland before locking his door. He pulled out his phone, typing a text. "If what I think is happening is happening, then we need to get going."

…

Poland frowned.

After he had shown the magic trio his discovery, they had departed to their rooms. They were lucky that their hotel was in the building next to the conference centre. Poland had watched his reflection guide the Moldova of that world to a hotel which was a fair distance away.

The more he saw, the more he hated his counterpart. He seemed to be very friendly with the child, something Felic would never be. And the child was very cheerful as well, and was full of energy. He hated the Moldovan as well, but figured that it would be best to allow Romania to do with him what he will.

And once he saw the other Romania, he couldn't understand it. The two brothers looked remarkably like each other, with one being an older version of the other. He also noticed that while Moldova had a pair of fangs, Romania only had one. What did that signify?

When he saw the two brothers' interaction, he could already imagine Marius's reaction when he saw this. He and his brother _hated_ each other.

His curiosity was piqued when he saw the other Romania's reaction. It would seem that he knew something, and he really wanted to find out what the magic trio on the other side knew.

But, looking at the other Romania, he had to admit that the theory of them being opposites was completely plausible.

…

Marius frowned, looking at the mirror.

Ever since seeing what Felic so dearly wanted them to see, he wanted to see it himself. He wanted to see what his own reflection looked like. He wanted to see the differences as well.

But all he saw was the normal reflection. Dark hair, red eyes, and pale skin. He waited, and waited, and he was getting really tired. Just as he decided to find the other two, feeling the familiar craving, the mirror started to blur. He was curious, and finally, his patience was rewarded.

His counterpart looked a lot like Moldova. When he saw the interaction, he was filled with rage and disgust. He never wanted to see his brother treat him that way. And he was even more disgusted when he saw that the two of them greatly resembled each other.

But he wondered, what purpose did those fangs serve? They were odd, and why did Moldova have two while the other Romania had one?

He was interested, however, when the other mentioned getting the other two. Did that mean that they were going to see the other members of the magic trio? He was immediately interested, and he would never admit, curious. What were his friends' counterparts like? How different could they possibly be?

He grinned, an absolutely evil grin. He pulled out his cell phone, preparing to invite the other two to watch. If they wanted to play with the Nations of the other world, then they would have to know what they were going up against.

…

France was staring at the mirror, where he saw what appeared to be his reflection, but it wasn't. It looked like he was watching a scene from a movie or something, with the mirror acting as a screen.

The reflection was extremely unkempt. Francis shuddered at this. He was drinking wine, a cigarette in his mouth. He did not savour the wine, like Francis usually did. Instead, he was downing glass after glass, eventually foregoing the glass and drinking straight out of the bottle. Something that Francis would never do.

Wine was meant to be treasured, to be savoured. Not downed like some cheap whiskey, or rum, or…

He jumped when he heard a knock on the door. He whirled around, not seeing the reflection's eyes shift, as though to regard him. He opened the door to see Antonio and Gilbert standing there.

"Ola, amigo," Spain said. "Want to join us?"

"Since it's the last night of this unawesome meeting we decided to celebrate by going out drinking," Prussia said.

France smirked. He always enjoyed drinking with his friends, even though they usually ended up having to do a lot of explaining or paying for damage they caused.

"Oui, mes amis," France said. "Let us go."

And France never saw the change in the reflection.

…

Francois frowned.

As soon as he entered his room, and came within sights of the mirror, he had seen his reflection. There was an arrogant glint in the other's eyes, and something else that he couldn't pinpoint. Something that he despised.

When he saw that his reflection acted as though he could see him as well, Francois did the thing that was first nature to him when around someone else.

Absolutely nothing.

He noticed that the other seemed a little put off when he took note of his appearance. He also saw a glimmer of disgust when he lit his cigarette. When he took out the wine, there was almost relief in the other's appearance.

Until he saw how Francois drank his wine.

He seemed to be tortured when he saw the wine being drunk in such a way. A few times, he mentioned that wine was meant to be treasured. The rich flavour should be savoured. The beautiful art that is wine should be thoroughly analysed.

And when he started to drink straight out of the bottle, it looked as though the other was about to have a stroke.

Of course, Francois completely ignored him. But he _did_ keep an eye on what he was doing. He was thankful for his poker face. He would never let on how much he enjoyed seeing the other's reactions.

He scrutinised the other when he turned to answer the door. He was a little surprised when Prussia and Spain came, and the trio referred to each other as 'friends'. He was also slightly disgusted with how happy the three of them looked.

The three of them didn't hate each other. Alejandro and Gilen weren't on his list of people he detested, but they weren't friends. They merely tolerated each other better than most of the others.

He was surprised when he noticed that he seemed to follow the other France, but none of them reacted, and most of the focus was on his counterpart, whom he learned was named Francis.

And so, keeping in mind that Poland wanted to involve him in his newest game, Francois simply sat back and watched as the three went to the pub. He also took note of everything the other two did.

After all, the more he knew of that world, the better.

He may not appear it most of the time, but those that knew him well knew that he was one of the cruellest Nations of the world. After all, he once took care of both Italians.

…

Romania had sent a text that he wanted to meet. England huffed in annoyance. And just when he was about to go to the pub. His Slavic friend had better have a good reason for this.

Romania had told him to meet him in the small coffee shop in the hotel. There weren't a lot of people there, as most people would rather go explore the city than go to the coffee shop in the hotel they were staying in.

The world meeting had taken place in America. Said Nation had offered that they all stayed at his house, but they had declined, saying that they would rather stay at a hotel that was closer to the conference centre. The meeting had taken place for the last five days, with their last meeting finished for the month. There would be a few meetings here and there, namely with the G8. England wasn't looking forward to it too much. And then he had a Commonwealth meeting as well, and that one sounded even less welcoming, especially if he had to consider the southern hemisphere.

Even after the Cold War ended, tensions between East and West were always a little high. But very few Nations in the northern hemisphere realised that the southern Nations weren't too fond of them. England, having to deal with several of them at his Commonwealth meetings, knew this all too well. There was a slight division between the few Commonwealth Nations in the north and the many in the south.

Just then, England noticed that three of said Nations entered the coffee shop as well. Australia, New Zealand, and South Africa. And it would seem that they had discarded their suits and settled for their usual attire.

Out of the three, South Africa was the only female of the group. Her Dutch ancestry clearly shone through, but if you look close enough you would see just the faintest traces of German and French. These features were slightly masked due to her time in the African sun, making her skin a little darker than it was. She had waist-length golden hair that reminded England of the shrubbery that made up her inland. Her eyes were a different story. At first glance, they appeared green, resembling her coastal climate, but upon closer inspection one would see that the outer edges of her irises were an ocean blue, similar to the waters that bordered her land on three sides, and around the pupil it almost looked like a brown flower, which he knew represented both the arid climate of the Karoo and the Namaqualand flowers. She wore a dark green tee-shirt and a pair of jean shorts. She wore what appeared to be black ballet shoes that she would insist are called pumps. He also noticed that she had a woven brown anklet on her right leg.

He would never admit it, but he was slightly wary of the African Nation. The first reason was because she tended to suffer from severe mood swings, making her very unpredictable. The second reason was because she could hold onto a grudge for a _long_ time. And the third reason was because of the BRICS group.

In other words, she was friends with Russia and was one of the few countries that weren't afraid of him.

Once his three former colonies saw him they smiled, going towards his table.

"Are you waiting for someone, rooinek?" South Africa asked.

The three male Nations gave her a slight glare. England sighed.

"Yes, in fact," England said. "I'm waiting for Romania. He said it was urgent."

"Then Norway's probably coming as well," New Zealand said.

The three of them were among the only Nations that actually believed in magic, since all three of them had the magic touch as well, though he wasn't sure to what extent.

"What exactly are you three doing in a coffee shop?" England asked. "Somehow, I can't imagine you three frequenting a place such as this, especially together."

"We would go to the pub," Australia said, "but we're not 'legal drinking age' here."

All three of them resembled nineteen year olds.

"Besides," South Africa said, "there's nothing wrong with a little boeretroos, seeing as they don't have proper tea here."

"There is nothing wrong with Earl Grey," England said.

"You know I only drink rooibos."

England sighed. One of the habits South Africa had was to throw in random Afrikaans words. She also enjoyed taking the 'proudly South African' approach.

Meanwhile, a waitress had arrived to take the three southern Nations' orders. It was during that time that Norway made his appearance as well.

"G'day, mate," Australia greeted.

Norway merely nodded in greeting before turning to England.

"Romania told you to come here too?" he asked.

"That's right," England said. "I'm just catching up with these three."

"'These three'?" South Africa repeated, her voice growing cold.

England suddenly realised his mistake and went on to rectify it.

"Lukas, are you familiar with Jett, Fletcher and Anika?"

Norway looked at the three and nodded. He especially kept an eye on the South African, and England knew that he could pick up on her tone as well.

"Tino spoke about you a few times," Lukas said, eyes on the blonde girl. "Matthias also mentioned you. Said you knew how to host a World Cup."

The coldness in her demeanour disappeared, to be replaced by a pleased expression.

All four men were relieved, seeing as the danger was averted. For now.

South African's phone suddenly rang, and she answered. She spoke in one of her native languages, so none of the others could follow. But England assumed that she was speaking to one of her neighbours, or at least another African. Once she hung up, she sighed in frustration.

"I need to go," she said. "Lesotho wants me for something."

"What about your coffee?" Australia asked.

She placed money on the table and smiled at Norway.

"Looks like either you or Romania get mahala coffee," she said, before she made a swift exit.

"Her neighbours seriously need to learn to let her be," New Zealand sighed. "They keep asking her for favours or other things. The only time we really get to talk to each other uninterrupted is when we're playing against each other."

A little while later, their drinks arrived, with Norway commenting on the strong coffee the southern Nation had ordered. And it wasn't long after that that Romania arrived, dragging Poland along behind him.

"Well then, mates," Australia said, "I guess we'll leave you be. See you at the Commonwealth meeting then."

England nodded when the two departed, going to another table and allowing the four Europeans to speak privately.

…

"Alright," Norway said, "Why did you want to see us?"

"And why did you bring Poland?" England asked.

"Tell them what you told me," Romania said calmly.

Poland took a deep breath and started to explain the strange reflections. When he finished, Norway and England were silent in thought. Norway took a sip of the coffee before his face scrunched up.

"How can that girl drink her coffee so strong?" Norway asked.

"Who?" Romania asked.

"South Africa," England explained. "She ordered before she had to go. She gave it to Norway for free. Even paid for it."

"Yeah," Norway said. "What does 'mahala' mean, anyway?"

"It means to get something for nothing," England said. "It's Sotho, I think. And let me taste that."

England took a sip of the coffee before he handed it to Romania, scrunching his face. Romania soon did the same.

"The scary thing is," England said, "it's weaker than the coffee _she_ makes."

"Why are you so obsessed with the coffee?!" Poland huffed. "Like, do you know anything about the whacked out reflections or not?"

England frowned in thought.

"Could you perhaps show us?" England asked.

Poland took out his small mirror. The three members of the magic trio crowded around him, looking into the mirror.

The reflection was the same as it always was.

"What?" Poland said. "I know what I saw! Like, why's it happening?"

"Maybe it only shows one person at a time?" Norway suggested.

Norway could see that Poland was unnerved by this, as well as just being around them. Romania and England nodded, and the three members stepped away from the reflection, but just enough to still be able to see Poland's reflection.

Instantly, the reflection morphed and blue eyes, pale skin and black hair greeted them. The members of the magic trio gasped, never imagining that they would see such a _cold_ look in Poland's eyes, all while the other was smirking.

"Put it away," England whispered, and Poland was only too happy to oblige.

"Well?" Poland asked.

"I'll call my brothers," England said. "Tell them to meet me at my house. I'll need their help to check through my books."

"And I think I can get Iceland or Finland to help me," Norway said.

"Poland," Romania said, "think you and Lithuania would be able to help?"

"Like, anything to get rid of that creepy reflection," Poland responded. "Any idea what it might be?"

"I think," England said, "we might be glimpsing into another world. I think that was a darker version of Poland. An evil version."

…

"So, _that's_ the magic trio from that world, huh?" Felic said, drinking a bottle of vodka. "They seem serious." He frowned, recalling a certain piece of conversation. And remembered who else he saw. "So, it looks like they're friendly with the south. They have to be for _South Africa_ to give Norway coffee. And the other two looked like Australia and New Zealand. Might want to keep an eye on them."

…

Sigurd yawned.

Norway and England were watching the events unfold in Romania's room. They were now wearing their usual attire.

England wore a long sleeved pink shirt, a purple vest over it, and a bright blue bowtie. Norway wore a lime green sailor's outfit with a purple ascot.

"Okay," Oliver said. "We've seen our alternate versions. I think we might have fun."

"Da," Marius said. "You know, I think I'll find a human. I'm quite thirsty."

"Ooh," Oliver said, smirking, "will the two of you help me make cupcakes?"

The other two smirked.

"Of course."

**Yes, I've added a South Africa OC. My country is almost never mentioned, **_**anywhere**_**. **

_**Rooinek**_** is an Afrikaans term that literally translates to 'redneck'. It refers to anyone whose first (and often only) language is English, which is why England, New Zealand and Australia glared at her for saying it.**

**BRICS is the group of Brazil-Russia-India-China-South Africa. I'll be adding Brazil as well, along with other nations. I'll also be adding their 2P's. Creating OCs and their opposite halfs.**

**Rooibos is a herb that grows in South Africa that is most commonly used for tea. Most South Africans refuse to drink any other tea. Boeretroos (farmer's comfort) is coffee. To be specific, moerkoffie, which is **_**really**_** strong. It's basically filter coffee.**

**Denmark and Finland have good international relations with South Africa. I'll be basing a lot of the relationships with the OCs on the Wikipedia entry for international relations with that country.**

**Lesotho is a landlocked country completely surrounded by South Africa, which means that their survival depends on South Africa's political, military and economic situation. It also means that, should someone attack them, they'd have to get through South Africa first.**

**It's kind of a headcanon of mine that the southern countries resent the northern countries for calling all the shots. And getting all the attention. I mean, how many southern countries have been introduced in canon? Just look at the Hetalia map and you'll see what I mean. The headcanon developed further when I had to consider the 2Ps. And I checked. There actually **_**is**_** a north-south divide, but it's completely different than what I have in store.**

**As for the part that says Francois raised the two Italians, I'll explain it in another chapter.**


	3. Chapter 3: One-Sided Conversations

**Thanks to MRoshka, Miss Akiyata, Gort and an anon for reviewing.**

**After posting the last chapter, I found something interesting about the human name I gave South Africa, Anika. My original plan was to call her 'Annelise', then I learned that it was a popular name for femAustria. To avoid confusion, I changed it to Anika, which is also a popular South African name (I know, like, six, so…). Then I did some research about the name, and I found that the Dutch origin mainly had it as a diminutive form of 'Anna', which is a nickname they gave my classmate named Annelise. Strange how things work.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia.**

**Chapter 3: One-Sided Conversations**

_Both sides are aware of the game._

_Black is prepared to play._

_White needs encouragement._

_But soon, they both shall play._

…

While Matthew was gone, Matt decided to get something to eat as well. As he made his way to the kitchen, for no one trusted anyone else with food preparations, he had to stop.

Coming from the other end of the hallway were three Nations he didn't need to run into: India, Brazil, and South Africa.

India had long black hair tied back in a braid. His eyes were the colour of hazel. He wore a traditional sherwani in shades of blue and green. He always wore a tired expression, and he was rarely seen without one of the two that currently accompanied him.

Brazil had black hair as well. His hair was shoulder-length and tied back in a ponytail. His eyes were a dark brown. He wore a formal black suit, his expression sour, as usual. He was neither tanned nor pale, but somewhere in between.

South Africa seemed to radiate a cold aura wherever she goes. Her brown eyes glare at the world, and with her hair that was somewhere between black and brown, served to make her skin seem even paler. She wore a sombre black dress.

The three of them could always get away with what they wore.

Seeing them approaching, Matt did the smartest thing.

He stood aside and let them pass.

South Africa glanced at him, eyebrow arched, but said nothing. They passed without incident.

Canada sighed in relief. Everyone knew that tensions between North and South were high, and that is what caused the Cold War. He had learned from Matthew that their histories weren't the same. Matthew's world also had a Cold War, but it was between East and West. And Matthew's had ended. Matt's was still ongoing.

As it was, the three Nations that had just passed him happened to be the three leaders of the Southern Bloc. And he did _not_ want to start a fight with them. Especially South Africa.

He had seen their alternates through the mirror a few times, usually when Matthew had a meeting. South Africa was one of the Nations that recognised Matthew as Canada. Matthew also informed him that her constitution was based on his, and that one of her former bosses had been made an honorary Canadian citizen.

And then there's the fact that the three of them were sneaky fighters. They didn't look like it, but Matt had, unfortunately, learned the hard way that the three of them were not to be fought _alone_. There was no way he would pick a fight with them, intentional or otherwise, when the three of them were together. That was asking for trouble.

Sighing in relief, Matt continued to make his way to the kitchen, unaware of what awaited him there.

…

Romania returned to his room with a sigh. He seriously had to think of a reason why Poland was seeing the strange reflection. He also didn't know how dangerous said reflection would be. And he didn't know whether or not they would be able to pass through the mirror.

Once he entered the room, he froze.

It wasn't his usual reflection staring back at him. It was a scene straight from a horror movie.

It appeared to be a rather large kitchen. And, on one of the counters, a human corpse was lying. His torso was slashed open, and Romania could see inside of his body. But it wasn't the corpse that terrified him.

It was the trio around the corpse.

He noticed, with a hint of fear, that the three looked like England, Norway, and himself. And all three of them were bloody.

England seemed to be grinding up the organs that had been removed from the human's body. Norway was eating something that Vlad realised, with disgust, was skin. And his own reflection was drinking some sort of red liquid that Romania instinctively knew was blood.

The door to the kitchen opened, and Vlad noticed someone enter that looked vaguely familiar. Once the figure saw what the three already there were doing, he instantly turned and left. The other Romania stared after him.

"Wasn't that Canada?" he asked.

The other England looked back at the door.

"I think so," he said. "Too bad. I wanted to offer him a cupcake later. He admitted once that he would rather eat the poisoned ones than these. Although, both tend to make him sick."

Vlad sighed, glad to know that not all of the other Nations were like that. Then he realised what the other England said, and he felt nauseous.

The other Norway giggled.

"Some Nations can't handle it," he said. "Don't feel bad, Oliver. I can't get Icy to eat this either."

"Maybe we should call one of the Italies?" the other Romania suggested. "They make the best bloody pasta sauce."

That was it. Vlad ran to the en-suite bathroom and proceeded to empty the contents of his stomach. He might have seen a lot during the reign of Vlad the Impaler, but that was centuries ago. And what scared him was the fact that it was_ him_ that partook in it this time.

He was also terrified to think that the two Italians were also cannibals. It disgusted him. Veneziano couldn't harm a fly, and Romano, in spite of his tough guy façade, was also pretty much harmless. He shuddered to think that the two of them would do something like that.

He ignored the mirror and made his way to Moldova's room. He needed the company of someone that would help him forget what he had just seen.

…

Matt made his way back to his room, appetite completely lost. He was in no way a cannibal, and he didn't want to see _that _in the first place.

And now he knew not to accept any cupcakes from England later.

He had a rather strong immunity to poisons. But he did not enjoy eating someone else.

…

Moldova perked his head when he heard the door knock. He opened the door and beamed in happiness when he saw that it was his older brother.

"Big brother!" he exclaimed, hugging the other around the waist. "I'm so glad to see you."

Romania chuckled.

"I told you that I would see you later," Romania said.

The younger Nation let him in before closing the door. When he turned back towards his brother, he saw that the other was staring at where the mirror should be.

"Moldova, why'd you cover the mirror?"

Moldova sighed.

"I don't like looking at myself," he said. "At least, not when there's a world meeting and all. It's just… All the other countries are wearing fancy clothes and I'm…"

Moldova sniffed.

Romania knelt down and wrapped his arms around his younger brother. The Moldovan leaned into the embrace.

"It's alright," Romania sighed. "We've all had our ups and downs. You're just going through a 'down'. Just you wait. One day, you will experience an 'up'."

Moldova giggled. He always adored his older brother. He always knew how to cheer him up.

…

Moldova frowned.

He didn't know why, but the moment he looked into the mirror, he started to see a different reflection. It looked almost like him, but it wasn't. And it was almost as though he was watching someone else's life from the shadows.

He was young, he knew. But he was a rich country. He wore a fine suit of the deepest purple, and his blond hair was slicked back. He had deep green eyes, and pale skin. It was the only thing he had in common with his brother. And still he strived to get more sun.

Through the reflection, he saw an interesting interaction. The other boy greeted his older brother, and they looked… happy to see each other. If his guess was correct, and he was seeing an alternate version of himself… then the 'big brother' the other was talking about was Romania. The accent seemed to confirm it.

He and his brother hated each other. To see the two of them act like that… it disgusted him. And yet, when he saw the other Romania's caring side… he paused. He had never heard the Romanian say something so soothingly. He had never seen red eyes look towards him with such compassion. It almost melted the ice in his heart.

Almost.

But there was something else that drew the blonde's attention. The other boy wore a coat that was _way_ too large for him. It couldn't serve as a fashion statement. He couldn't figure it out. Why did the other wear that?

And then, the words of _comfort_ themselves. From the sounds of it, the other was having a rough time. So why was the other Romania _comforting_ him? If it had been _his_ Romania, then he would have been left in the dust. He would have been dropped right then and there. And any other Nation would revel in his misfortune. Would do all they could to worsen his situation.

He felt disgusted by the comfort, but another part of him realised something else.

He _wanted_ something like that as well.

He wanted the love.

…

Matthew entered the room, pleased that the hotel's coffee shop had pancakes. He had to be sneaky, soaking them in his own bottle of maple syrup, instead of the café's. It was nothing personal. He just knew that Americans had no idea how to make maple syrup.

He immediately saw Matt, and a soft smile graced his lips. Matt tried to mirror it, but he failed terribly. It turned more into a grimace, and Matthew's smile disappeared as well. He immediately noticed that Matt seemed a little green.

"What's wrong?" Matthew asked.

Matt sighed.

"I walked in on England, Romania and Norway making cupcakes," Matt explained.

Matthew paled. He knew exactly what that meant.

"Matthew," Matt said. "I think… I'm going back home. I don't need to sleep anyway. And it's a long drive from Russia to Canada."

Matthew nodded his head. He completely understood.

"Then I guess… see you tomorrow, eh?"

Matt smiled.

"Yeah. See you tomorrow."

Neither mentioned that they were most likely going to be keeping watch on each other throughout the night.

…

Poland returned to his room, and he immediately came face to face with his alternate reflection. The other was smirking, drinking a bottle of vodka. Feliks tried to ignore the black-haired version of him.

"Now, don't be like that."

Feliks jumped. The voice sounded exactly like his, but it was… cold. Feliks turned to face the reflection, and saw that the reflection looked expectantly at him now.

Feliks paled, and the other's smirk widened.

"Looks like one theory is confirmed," the other one said. "It would seem we can at least speak to each other. Good to know."

"Like, who are you?" Feliks demanded.

The other scowled, before his smirk reappeared.

"My name is Felic Łukasiewicz," the other said. "I am known as Poland."

"Feliks Łukasiewicz," Feliks said. "Poland."

"I figured you'd be," Felic said. "Asides from a few… minor differences, we look alike. Although, I'm kind of glad our names aren't exactly the same. It would be _way_ too confusing. Had a nice meeting with the magic trio?"

Feliks took a step back.

"How'd you know?" Feliks asked.

"I saw it," Felic said. "Looks like we can follow each other through the mirror. And what's that I heard about South Africa?"

"She's just a former colony of England," Feliks said. "Not one of the friendliest towards him. Plus she's friends with Russia. I don't think she's someone I'd like to make friends with."

Felic frowned.

"Hold on a moment," he said. "Friends with Russia? She's south, he's north. So how can they be friends with the Cold War and all?"

Feliks cocked his head in confusion.

"The Cold War is over," Feliks said. "And why would there be a problem between north and south? Like, the Cold War was between east and west."

Felic frowned.

"Interesting," Felic said. "Tell me, were you and Lithuania ever a Commonwealth?"

"Tak."

"Alright then, what about the Two Hundred Year War?"

Feliks scrunched his face in confusion.

"What? Nie. I've never even heard of it. There was a Hundred Year War, but that was between France and England."

Felic scoffed.

"France? At war? He's too indifferent to participate in a war. But he's still one scary Nation."

It was Feliks's turn to scoff.

"France? Scary? Please. That's, like, totally out there. The Nation of love, _scary_?"

Felic arched an eyebrow.

"In my world, France is the Nation of hate. I mean, he raised the two _Italies_, for crying out loud!"

"Actually, North Italy was raised by Austria, and South Italy was raised by Spain. I remember that from when I was partitioned. Like, Italy was my best friend when we both lived in Austria's house."

Felic laughed.

"You were _partitioned_? That is completely _weak_! Weak and _pathetic_!"

That stung. Feliks had always prided himself in rising from the partitions. By all rights, he shouldn't even be there anymore. But he rose from the ashes. He became the Resurrecting Phoenix. The partitions were a particularly painful time for him, and he still had nightmares from the second partition. To be called weak and pathetic…

"Like, shut up!" Feliks shouted. "You don't know anything!"

His eyes stung. The partitions were old wounds that he didn't like having agitated. They were deep wounds. Wounds that he sometimes still carried.

There was a knock on the door, making him jump. Cautiously, he made his way to the door, opening it…

…Only to look into concerned blue-green eyes.

"Are you okay?" Toris asked. "You're crying."

Feliks wiped away the few tears that managed to escape.

"Like, I'm totally fine," Poland said. "Like, what do you want, Liet?"

Lithuania smiled.

"I figured, since we're all going home tomorrow, that we could spend some time together," Lithuania said. "Maybe play a little game of chess? Or something else."

Poland smiled.

"I'd like that," he said.

…

Felic smirked.

It would seem that he had already identified a weakness of his counterpart. Too bad he couldn't find out more about his new plaything's history the way he usually would. But, for the first time, the game seemed interesting. He had no prior information on his target, and he loved it. It made it even more fun to extract the information out of his counterpart, and then use it against him.

And it seemed as though it would be _easy_ to get the information. From the short conversation, he gathered that _Feliks_ let things slip too easily, while Felic carefully selected his words. And, seeing as their histories weren't synchronised, it was more important to get information out of the blonde.

Keeping in mind that there were others playing the game as well, he had to get in touch with them, so they could exchange knowledge. It was important for them to know as much about the other world as possible.

He watched his counterpart and Lithuania's counterpart through the mirror, all the while planning strategies, battle plans, moves and countermoves.

And while he watched, he came to a realisation that gave him a slight headache.

His counterpart was _horrible_ at chess.

…

Arthur sighed, taking out his phone.

He had to do it. He had no other choice. And so, he dialled a familiar number. A number that he hated to call, and that hated being called by him.

"What do you want?!" the voice on the other end snarled.

"Hello to you too, Alistair," England said, his voice monotone. "Listen, I need you, Patrick, Seamus and Will to be at my house when I arrive."

"Why?"

England opened the door to his room and almost closed it again. He was looking at a strange version of himself, along with what appeared to be different versions of Norway and Romania, and there was a corpse near them.

"Because it would seem we have a problem of the supernatural variety," England said, throwing a sheet over the mirror.

Scotland was silent for a while.

"What kind of problem?" Scotland eventually asked.

"Alternate world," England sighed. "I'd suggest avoiding mirrors. In fact, if you arrive at my house, could you please cover all the mirrors?"

"How bad is it?"

"I just saw an alternate version of myself sampling a human corpse with Romania and Norway."

"…That's sick. Don't worry, I'll get the others. And Artie, please be careful. If you can see into an alternate world, then it's safe to assume that they could see you too. And if they're as twisted as that brief mental image described… Just, be careful."

Arthur swallowed nervously.

"You be careful as well. I don't know who else is affected, but it might pose a problem. Especially if they learn how to cross over."

It was a possibility. A possibility that he didn't want to face.

"Alright then. See you tomorrow then?"

"Yes, see you tomorrow."

He hung up the phone. He might not have the best relationship with his brothers, but when one of them is in danger, then the other four will be there to help in a moment's notice. And when it comes to his magic, the other four were immediately worried. When he was still a child, his magic had attracted a monster. His older brothers, who also had the magic touch, had done all they could to save him. They could no longer use magic.

And when an alternate world was involved, then there's no telling how things could go.

…

France smiled.

He always enjoyed drinking with Spain and Prussia. No matter what, they always managed to cheer him up. And they always managed to have fun, even if they sometimes had to explain their antics while they were drunk, usually to the police. France inwardly shuddered when he remembered the time they had to explain themselves to _Germany_.

France looked towards the mirror behind the bar. He was glad that he couldn't see the other him. He was glad that he saw his own reflection, Spain and Prussia next to him.

**A different version of the Cold War. Remember when I mentioned that the southern countries resented the northern countries? The reason is because of the Cold War in the 2P world. The southern countries of the 1P world are affected by it as well, but not enough to start another Cold War.**

**The IBSA dialogue forum is basically a representation of south-to-south relations, with Brazil representing South America, South Africa representing Southern Africa, and India representing Southern Asia. All three of them are also members of the G13, which is an extended version of the G8 to include five rising powers, the other two being Mexico and China. So it makes sense that they are to the south what the Soviet Union was to the east.**

**Nelson Mandela was made an honorary Canadian citizen.**

**So, the two worlds don't have the same histories. Some events are more or less the same. Others have different versions. And others are **_**completely**_** non-existent in one world.**

**Oh, and if you're wondering how Matt would be able to drive from Russia to Canada, it's because the 2Ps don't trust any form of public transportation. Some of them have acquired means of teleportation, others know how to fly. For the rest, they created various bridges for easy access across the oceans. With gas stations where they could refill their tanks.**


	4. Chapter 4: Returning Home

**Thanks to scarletwater, Gort, Miss Akiyata and an anon for reviewing.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia.**

**Chapter 4: Returning Home**

_There is no better advantage than the home advantage._

…

England sighed. He was already on a plane, on his way back to London. He hoped that he'd be able to find an explanation, and a solution, to what is currently happening. And if not him, then Norway or Romania.

He had managed to catch a few glimpses of his reflection. Every time, a grinning, blue-eyed face would stare back at him. Almost… expectantly. As though the one on the other end was waiting for him.

And it might just be the case. He heard a voice come through the mirror, as though trying to speak to him, but it wasn't reassuring. The crazy giggle was discomforting, and it only served to make him wish to find a solution sooner. And then there were the words spoken by the counterpart.

"_Come on! Why don't we play a little game?"_

It seemed innocent enough, but there was just something in the tone, in the way he said it, that sounded rather ominous.

Well, he might as well catch a wink while on the flight. As soon as he returned, he knew that he would have to go through the mountains of books in search of something he wasn't even sure what to search for. And then there would also be the jetlag to deal with.

That was one of the reasons why he called his brothers. He needed their help, as much as he hated to admit it. And then, there was the risk of something happening. The same thing that happened when he became too fatigued and could no longer control his magic. Dangerous things are attracted to his magic when it is no longer under his control.

And his brothers knew how to stop it.

…

Oliver frowned slightly before smirking. He had been hoping to speak to his counterpart all morning, but it would seem that the other Brit was pointedly ignoring him. Oh well. He had to acknowledge him _sometime_. And when that time comes, then he would start having fun.

Taking a bite from his cupcake, he watched as the other curled up to sleep. What seemed truly odd was the fact that he appeared to be in an aeroplane. No one in his world _dared_ to use public transportation. Too easy for someone to ambush you. And it was always such a hassle…

He sighed, before he glanced at the packed bag. He would have left _hours_ ago, but he wanted to see more of the other world, and it was easier if Norway and Romania were there as well. And they had so much fun making cupcakes the previous night. They did, however, end up giving the extra blood to the Italy twins as a gift. Who knows, their sadistic tendencies might come in handy when they play the game, and it was better for all of them if the two Italians weren't too upset. Especially Veneziano. It was better in the long run.

Poland's not the only one good with strategies, after all.

Grabbing his bag, Oliver started to chant under his breath. It was only a matter of time before the portal appeared and he stepped through it.

This was, after all, the best way to travel.

…

Canada sighed happily. It was a bit of a drive from America to his place, but it was better than most. The only others that had his advantage were America himself and Mexico. All the other Nations had to catch a flight, which would be followed by jetlag.

Matthew spared a glance in the mirror, catching his reflection, and seeing Matt, still driving. Matthew knew that everyone in Matt's world hated public transportation, and therefore hated a plane. He also knew _why_. It had occurred a few times that Matt was attacked whenever he was out in the open. By his own people.

Well, the ones that didn't shrink away in fear, that is.

Another thought occurred to him. He had to get back to Kumjiro. He was sure that the bear would want proper, warm food, and not the food that Matthew had left behind.

That was another thing, his own private game. Kumajiro would always forget who he was, and in a bit of payback, he would always get the bear's name wrong. It was his own way of letting the bear know that he could also be forgotten. But, at the same time, he would _never_ really forget his bear.

He just wished that those in his world would remember him. It stung, to always be overlooked by your brother, your father, your adoptive father, and everyone you dared to consider a friend. Matt remembered him, but it was probably because it was hard to ignore your own reflection, once you become aware of it. It hurt even more that his beloved pet didn't even know who he was.

Then there was the Commonwealth meeting that he would have to attend soon enough. At least _some_ of them acknowledged him. But he was still mostly invisible. Although, it was fun to see some of the former colonies take a swing at England. Some of them really enjoyed criticizing him, a game that has been played since the Statute of Westminster. Back when he was a Commonwealth Nation, Ireland would act as an instigator, along with South Africa. Australia would usually be the next to join, followed by New Zealand and even Canada. Even though Ireland was no longer a member, and even though there were a few new members, the tradition never died down, and Scotland would usually come to these meetings too, just to see his younger brother be put through hell by Nations he used to control.

_Payback_, they would all say. And they said it a lot.

Of course, they weren't _completely_ cruel. Information about the game never left the Commonwealth of Nations. Nations that were no longer part of the Commonwealth would remain quiet as well, and secretly enjoyed the fights England had with France and America, whom basically did the Commonwealth's job _for_ them.

Speaking of which, he never told Matt about the game they would play. He was sure that he would enjoy that type of mental torture.

…

The first thing Prussia noticed when he woke up was that his head was pounding. He thought that he might have had too many beers the previous night, before he immediately disregarded that thought. After all, the awesome Prussia could never have too many beers. Beers were part of the reason why he was so awesome.

The second thing he noticed was that his reflection looked funny. It wasn't his usual, awesome self. In fact, his reflection was as far as awesome as could possibly be.

He had tired looking blue eyes and his white hair reached just beyond the shoulders, making him resemble his vati. He wore what appeared to be a Teutonic Knights uniform, except it was a light grey with Prussian blue. He also had a scar on his right cheek. His face was mostly blank, but there was a bit of curiosity in his eyes as he seemed to be studying him.

Gilbert frowned, an action that wasn't reflected in the mirror.

"What the…" he said. "Who the hell are you?"

There was no answer. Normally, there shouldn't be an answer, except the reflection didn't ask the question with him.

"Hey, answer me!" Gilbert said. "Seriously, so unawesome! If you're not going to say something, then can I have my regular awesome reflection back?"

The reflection said nothing, and did nothing. Gilbert officially lost his temper, and punched the mirror.

Bad idea.

As he was clutching his bleeding fist, he let out a string of curses in both German and English. The mirror was shattered, but he could still see the different reflection in the shards.

And now he had to pay for the broken mirror.

…

Gilen stared in surprise. He never flinched when an attack was aimed at him, but he was caught off guard when it appeared that the mirror on the other's end was apparently broken, if the other's reaction was anything to go by. He half expected that the fist would go through.

After all, he saw someone else that vaguely looked like him through the mirror, and the other could obviously see him. And he could hear the other's voice, so it was safe to assume that the other would have been able to hear him as well, making it possible for the two of them to be able to speak to each other. So he assumed that it might have been possible for the other's fist to go through.

Apparently not.

Shaking his head, Gilen took his luggage and decided to leave. He was one of the few Nations that still slept, and that was because he was quite a light sleeper, and those that dared to attack him while asleep had suffered. Even Poland knew to let sleeping Prussians lie.

…

Spain couldn't understand why his reflection looked so different.

The reflection had long black hair tied back in a ponytail with dark, almost black, brown eyes. His skin was slightly darker than Antonio's, and there were scars across his face. He wore the same clothes Spain used to wear when he was a conquistador, and he seemed to fit the part.

What got to Antonio the most was the fact that the other looked… scary.

He immediately turned and fled, hoping to ask France and Prussia whether or not their reflections were also strange.

…

Alejandro glared in the mirror. His reflection appeared to have turned tail and fled, and usually he would enjoy something like that, except that such weakness had come from a face almost identical to his.

And then there was something about the other's eyes. Something carefree and… _cheerful_. He _hated_ it.

He watched as his reflection made its way towards another room and knocked on the door. A few seconds later, it seemed as though France answered.

A very well-groomed France.

"Is something wrong?" the other France asked.

"Si," the other Spain said. "My reflection…"

The other France held out a hand, stopping the other Spain. His eyes were wide.

"Let me guess," France said. "It looks like a twisted version of you?"

Alejandro felt a wave of outrage. _Twisted_?

"Si," the other Spain said. "My reflection looked scary."

"We should ask Gilbert if he has seen this strange reflection too," the other France said. "Something tells me that something bad is happening, and it's not just because my reflection is atrocious."

It might just be his imagination, but Alejandro could swear he felt a bit of killing intent coming from somewhere in the building, and he figured he knew where it came from.

'Might as well ask Francois what he knows about this,' Alejandro thought.

…

Francois opened the door, just as Gilen was passing it. He grabbed Prussia and dragged him inside his room.

"What?!" Prussia exclaimed. "What are…?"

"One question," Francois said. "Did you see a strange reflection of yourself or not?"

Gilen looked at him oddly before nodding his head. A few seconds later, there was a demanding knock on the door, and Francois opened it to see Spain was standing there.

"Tell me what you know about the reflection," Alejandro growled.

"I know that it's the object of Poland's newest game," Francois said. "And, since he invited me to play, I'm sure he wouldn't mind if you played as well."

That got both of them interested. Alejandro smirked, a truly terrifying look in his eyes.

"Tell me more," Spain said.

"Poland said that we should exchange information with each other," France said. "You both are welcome to come."

"Sure," Prussia said. "It would be nice to be on the _other_ side of a game for once."

…

Lithuania hurried out of the hotel, his bag by his side. He was freaked out by what he saw that morning.

His reflection was completely different. The hair was a darker brown and was tied in a ponytail. The eyes were also a chocolate brown, and the skin on the other was deathly pale. He wore a red version of Lithuania's military uniform, and then there was the look in the other's eyes.

Pure hatred.

He never thought he would say it, but he had seen someone that scared him more than Russia did. And the truly terrifying part was that it was _his own reflection_.

He was still debating whether or not to tell Poland. On one hand, Poland would make fun of him for being scared of his own reflection. On the other hand, Poland could see it too.

…

Tolys huffed as he waited for Felic. The other had told him the previous night about the new game he was playing, and Tolys had agreed when he saw his reflection.

His reflection appeared weak and pathetic. He hated it. So he made it a point that, no matter what, he would teach the other a lesson.

And now, he and Poland had to return to their homes, and he was unlucky enough to be stuck driving the two of them home.

Oh joy.

…

Norway sighed. He was on a plane, along with the other Nordics. He had managed to get them to help him in his search, but he did not say why. He did not need them telling him that he was crazy (again), so he simply said that it was for research purposes.

He also didn't mention that he might perform a few magical searches, and that it would wear him out, and that something dangerous might come if he was wiped out. Luckily, it wouldn't attack him if there were others around.

Experience taught him that much.

…

When Arthur eventually arrived home, it was, thankfully, not to an empty house. It was a house out in the countryside, a few hours away from London. And it was where his books were. It was more of a mansion, but he kept everything in his basement, which was almost like a dungeon. He had managed to terrify America with the things that were down there, but it wasn't too hard. For a 'hero', America was pretty easy to scare.

He had noted that, as requested, his mirrors were either removed or covered, and he was thankful for that.

Arriving in the living room, he was immediately greeted by the sight of his four brothers, each drinking a glass of whiskey.

Scotland was taller and also more muscular than Arthur. Alistair had vibrant red hair and the green eyes that they were known for. He wore a blue uniform with white sashes crossing over the front. Out of his four brothers, Alistair was the one that bullied him the most, but was the first to arrive when England was truly in trouble.

Wales was also tall, but he was leaner than Scotland. William had the trademark green eyes and brown hair. He wore a beige uniform with black sashes in the front. Out of the UK brothers, Wales was the oldest, and also the calmest. It was nearly impossible to find something that would faze him. The only exception was when he was tired or when he was forcibly awoken. That was not a pretty picture.

Northern Ireland was also taller than England, but was slightly shorter than the other two. He had the same green eyes, and his hair was ginger. He wore a light green uniform with black sashes. He also parted his hair to the right, and there were freckles on his cheeks. Of the Irish twins, Patrick was the more serious one.

Ireland was almost identical to his northern brother. He had the same green eyes and he also had ginger hair, but his was parted to the left and was shaggier than his twin's. He wore a light green uniform with white sashes. Out of all of the brothers, Seamus was the least responsible brother.

"Artie," Scotland said, and all eyes were on him. "Care to tell us what's going on?"

Arthur nodded before taking a seat, pouring a pint of whiskey for himself.

"Yesterday, Poland brought to our attentions that the mirrors are reflecting strange versions of ourselves," England started to explain. "Romania and Norway had seen their reflections as well, and they saw the same thing I did. Our three counterparts our cannibalistic, baking a human into _cupcakes_."

The others' eyes were wide with that particular piece of information.

"We think that it might be another world we are seeing," England continued to explain. "A darker world. I have seen a few glimpses, and it was not pretty. Also, strawberry blond is not a nice colour on me."

The Ireland twins exchanged a glance.

"Are you saying," Wales said, "that the reflections look different?"

England nodded his head.

"Yes. My hair has a bit of a pinkish tint and my eyes are blue. Norway's hair is white. And Romania's hair is black, as well as Poland's."

"What about the others?" North asked.

"I haven't seen anyone else," England said. "But I spoke to Romania. He said he saw a glimpse of Canada, and they didn't look too different. He also said that not _all_ the Nations of that world appeared to be cannibals."

"That's good, I guess," Ireland said. "Any idea what might be causing it?"

"No," England said. "And that's why I need your help. There has to be something in at least _one_ of my books about what is going on. Because I saw the look in my reflection's eyes. There was pure insanity."

"Alright then," Scotland said. "I guess we need to start getting to work."

…

Oliver frowned.

He was slightly insulted by what Arthur had said about him. But that's okay. As soon as they found a way to cross over to their world, he would make sure to have fun with him.

He couldn't wait.


	5. Chapter 5: Information Search

**Thanks to Miss Akiyata, Gort, Thatwolfbutler and an anon for reviewing.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia.**

**Chapter 5: Information Search**

_All the pieces have been assembled._

_And now, the game can finally begin._

…

Matthew awoke, quite content. He was back home, in Canada. And, by now, Matt was probably back home as well.

"Who are you?" a familiar voice asked.

Matthew's mood immediately took a nosedive. He turned to look at Kumajiro, who was regarding him with the usual blank look.

"I'm Canada," Matthew said. "Your owner. The one that feeds you."

"Oh. I'm hungry."

Matthew sighed before he stood up, before leaning against the wall. He felt an uncomfortable wave of dizziness wash over him.

"Are you okay?" Kumajiro asked.

"I'm fine," Canada said. "Come on, let's go to the kitchen."

As he carefully made his way down the hall, he caught his reflection, and smiled. It would seem Matt arrived at his home safely, and was now sprawled on the bed, snoring quite loudly.

And yet, Matthew couldn't help but feel a nagging sense of unease plaguing him.

…

There was a yawn as another book was set aside.

"Don't," England said. "Please, don't."

They had been up all night, searching for any information regarding what was happening. So far, no luck.

"We need to sleep," Wales said. "I don't know about you, but I'm getting exhausted."

"We don't know what kind of threat this is," England said. "We don't know how dangerous it is."

"We've been at this all night and all morning," Northern Ireland whined. "It's already past noon."

"Artie," Scotland said, "let's take a break, okay? If we're tired, we might miss something. And it's dangerous if we're tired."

At the mention of danger, they all looked towards him. He had a point. It was dangerous for all five of them to be tired at any given time.

"Very well," England sighed. "But not too long."

…

Oliver giggled. He had watched his counterpart through the mirror, and heard the bickering between the brothers. It was kind of amusing.

He had searched through his own books, keeping a mirror nearby in order to see what Artie was doing, and listening to any indication that they had found something. Neither side had had much luck.

When he heard that the others were taking a break, he was almost disappointed. Didn't they know how to work for days without break? Oh well, it's probably for the best. He had to get to Poland's house. They had to discuss what they had learned…

…And know who else was in on the game.

…

Norway yawned. The other Nordics were asleep, but he was still pushing onward. He had to find out what was going on. And fast. He had no idea what dangers the other world could pose.

They had worked through the night, but had found nothing. The others had collapsed out of pure exhaustion, and Lukas was on his way as well. Thinking that it was about time for him to get a cup of coffee, before he too collapsed, he made his way toward the kitchen, aware that he was being watched.

It was as he passed a mirror that his suspicions were confirmed.

"Hello Lukas."

He paused. The voice sounded so very much like his own, but there was something different. Different emotions. What he could identify were mischief and… sadism.

He stepped back to the mirror, coming face to face with a white-haired version of himself. Asides from the white hair, something else caught his eye.

"_What_ are you wearing?" Lukas asked.

The other frowned, before looking down at his outfit, then to Lukas's.

"Something that isn't _boring_," the other said.

Lukas sighed. He had a feeling that the other might be quite similar to Denmark.

"Alright, fine," Lukas said. "May I ask your name, since you know mine?"

The other giggled, and Lukas could feel his eye starting to twitch.

"Sigurd," the other said. "Matthias and Tino seem like fun. Definitely an improvement to _my _Denmark and Finland."

"You've been spying on me," Lukas said.

"I'm always watching. All I need to do is look into a mirror and I can see you, no matter what you do. Whether or not you're in front of a mirror too."

"I see. You guys are responsible for what's happening."

"Nope. We only saw you guys yesterday. Nothing to do with it."

Lukas frowned before some sort of alarm went off. Sigurd looked towards his watch.

"Oops. Looks like I'm almost late. Well then, see you later!"

And Sigurd disappeared in a swirl of colours that made Lukas nauseous. At least he knew one thing.

The other side had no idea what's going on either.

…

Canada paused. He was making pancakes for him and Kumajiro, but something felt off to him. He just didn't know what it could be.

Shaking it off, he flipped over the pancake he was currently working on, but there was still a nagging at the back of his mind.

He couldn't help but think that a past choice is coming along to bite him in the behind.

…

Felic was surprised by everyone that turned up. He knew France, Lithuania and the magic trio would show up. He did not expect Spain and Prussia to show up. Especially Prussia.

"So Poland," Spain said, "what's this about a game with our reflections?"

Poland sighed, but he figured that the sadistic Spaniard might be good to have on their side.

"They seem to have a light that we lack," Poland said. "What do you say we extinguish that light? After all, it's boring to play with humans, and what's the fun with everyone in our world? We know each other too well, and messing with each other's become way too normal. Gentlemen: we have a chance to torture fresh meat."

Spain and Lithuania instantly perked up at this, and even Prussia looked interested.

"We're working on a way to cross over to that world," Romania said. "Until then, it would seem we can only observe and torture them with our words."

"Ugh," Spain groaned. "Verbal torture. What's it good for?"

"Break their spirit, and you break _them_," Prussia said. "I saw my counterpart. He's a little on the arrogant side."

"That's putting it mildly," France scoffed. "I watched him last night when he and that Spain went out drinking with _my _counterpart. If I hear the word 'awesome' one more time…"

"That's another thing," Poland said. "Exchange of information. For example, I learned that their history's not the same as ours."

"It makes it difficult," Lithuania said. "We can't easily do research on their histories like we normally do."

"But it would definitely make things more interesting," Norway said. "Also, they have no idea what's going on either."

"And they appear to be avoiding mirrors," France said. "My counterpart's a bit of a narcissist, and I can see it's torturing him."

"And it would seem that Artie saw us the other night," England said. "He was disgusted."

"Vlad was the same," Romania said. "I heard him muttering to himself."

Poland smirked. Everything was going smoothly.

…

France, with Prussia and Spain by his side, knocked on his rival's door. The fact that all three of them could see strange reflections of themselves was cause for concern, and perhaps England would know something about it.

But it was not England that opened the door. France swallowed nervously when he saw who it was. That never meant something good.

"Scotland?" France said.

The redhead looked down at him, a scowl on his face. There was a chance that the Scot was hungover, because he did not look like he was fit to be awake.

And France seriously hoped that England was not in the same state.

"What do you want?" Scotland growled.

Now, France was not a fool. While he always picked a fight with England, he was wary around the rest of the British Isles. Wales can be quite scary on the rare occasions that he was mad, Ireland was too lucky when it came to a fight, and Northern Ireland was extremely sneaky and unpredictable. But it was Scotland he was most wary of. An angry and/or drunk Scotland was a dangerous thing.

And Scotland was in an irate mood.

"Ola," Spain said, completely oblivious of the potentially dangerous situation. "Is England here?"

Scotland's eyes narrowed.

"And why do you want to see my younger brother?" Scotland demanded.

Now France was worried. Only those who knew him would realise that he had gone into protective big brother mode. And he only got that way when something was wrong.

"We need to see him about totally unawesome reflections," Prussia said, as blunt as ever.

France did not expect the Scot's eyes to widen in surprise. It was as though he had an idea, even a vague idea, about what Prussia was talking about. That set off warning bells in France's head.

"Come in," Scotland said. "I'll go wake him."

"Is he taking a siesta?" Spain asked, looking at his watch as the trio entered the mansion.

"Something like that," Scotland said. "We all were."

And now France understood. Scotland was upset because he was awoken. In a way, it was reassuring.

At least it wasn't Wales they woke.

…

Kumajiro watched as his master placed a plate of pancakes in front of him. He didn't tell him, but he really liked the pancakes. He assumed that his master knew this, since he never complained, and Canada always made it for him.

He knew exactly who Canada was, he just never let him know it. He knew that Canada tended to be forgotten, and he was slightly afraid that Canada himself would forget. It happened once before, when the Nation was still very young. He doubted that he himself could remember. But it was scary.

So he constantly asked him who he was, not because Kumajiro needed a confirmation, but because he needed to make sure that history didn't repeat itself.

Although, he had to admit, it had gotten better since the other Canada started appearing in the mirror. He acknowledged him, and ever since, Canada had become happier. It had been a long time since the little white bear had heard his master crying behind a locked bathroom door.

But now, Kumajiro had something else to worry about. Canada was looking very pale this morning, and he had no idea what to do to help. But no matter what, he would protect his master. He had a promise to fulfil.

…

France, Prussia and Spain were all sitting in the living room of the Brit's house as Scotland went to retrieve his younger brother. They waited in silence, since none of them were overly comfortable with being in England's house. And, judging by the glasses on the coffee table, Scotland was not the only brother in the house. And that caused the trio to be on edge.

"What do you want, frogface?" a familiar, irritated voice demanded.

The trio turned to see England, looking as though he had just woken up, with all four his brothers by his side.

And the trio grew even more nervous. While they would mess with the blonde, they stayed well away from the intimidating brothers. Especially when they were together.

"We were hoping you could help us," France said, "seeing as you like magic tricks."

All five Kirkland brothers' eyes narrowed.

"What is it?" England asked through gritted teeth.

"Ever since the world meeting, I haven't been able to see my normal, gorgeous reflection," France said.

"And my reflection was totally unawesome," Prussia said.

"You're lucky," Spain said. "Mine is _scary_."

The brothers immediately lost their glares. England stared wide-eyed at them, but there was a knowing look in his eyes. Wales and Scotland shared a look, as well as the two Irelands.

"Different reflection?" England said. "Tell me, does the colouring seem off?"

"Now that you mention it," Spain said. "Si. Mine has darker hair and brown eyes. Also longer hair."

"Longer hair," Prussia said, "blue eyes."

"Extremely unkempt," France said, "but I saw that his eyes were a different colour. Violet, perhaps?"

England sighed.

"I've seen it too," England said. "Different hair, different eyes. And different interests. I saw my reflection baking a human into cupcakes."

"Confirms that the British don't know how to cook," France said.

And again, five sets of green eyes were glaring.

"Poland said something like this as well," England said. "I saw what his reflection looked like, and it wasn't good."

Prussia grimaced when Poland was mentioned.

"I also saw Norway and Romania," England said. "Frankly, I think we're seeing another world. A dark world. And I'm afraid that, somehow, seeing will be replaced by facing them without a glass barrier."

"How can you be sure that it would happen?" France asked.

"The fact that you can see them is cause for concern," Wales said. "Already, a certain boundary has been crossed. If any more boundaries are crossed, then it's only a matter of time before they figure out how to cross the final boundary and come to our world. And from what I've heard, that would be a bad idea."

England frowned. He turned towards his eldest brother.

"Wait a minute," Arthur said. "Are you saying that _you_ don't see anything different in a mirror?"

"Nope," Wales said.

"Me neither," Scotland said.

"Considering my reflection is right next to me…" Northern Ireland said.

"I haven't seen a difference either," Ireland said.

That was when England's cell phone rang.

…

"Like, how come you have to have so many books?" Poland huffed.

Romania sighed. It was not the first complaint that he'd gotten out of Poland's mouth, and he knew that it wouldn't be the last. Luckily for him, he had convinced the Pol to bully Lithuania into helping, and now he wasn't alone in dealing with the annoying blonde.

"Unlike you, I actually read," Romania snapped. "So I _need_ to have a lot of books."

Lithuania watched this in silence. It had become routine. Poland would complain, and Romania would snap. He quietly picked up another book.

"Um, Romania," Lithuania said. "I think I might have found something."

Romania went over towards Lithuania, looking at the words written on the page.

"'When evil can be seen through mirrors'," he read, "'make sure that two faces are never reflected in the same mirror, for the evil shall find another to follow, and like a plague, the evil shall spread.'"

"Like, what is that supposed to mean?" Poland said.

Romania thought about it before it clicked.

"Poland," Romania said, "you started seeing a strange version of yourself after seeing another strange reflection in the mirror, right?"

"Tak," Poland said, looking confused.

"And I started seeing my other reflection after you showed me," Romania continued. "We were both reflected in the same mirror. That means that if you're reflected in the same mirror at the same time that someone that's already seeing their alternate, then you will start to see your own alternate."

"What?" Lithuania asked.

"It's a long story," Poland said. "So, because I like saw that other reflection while I was looking at myself in the mirror, I started to see my own whacked out reflection?"

"Pretty much," Romania said.

"Um," Lithuania said. "I think I know what you're talking about."

Romania groaned.

"Not you too," he said.

Lithuania nodded.

Romania sighed, and pulled out his cell phone, first calling Norway, and then calling England, who informed him that the bad touch trio was in the same boat as them.

"Now," Romania said, "who did you see the first time?"

Poland frowned in thought.

"I, like, can't remember," he said. "It's totally weird. I know what the reflection looked like, but I can't remember who it is, or who the original Nation is. Everything's hazy."

Romania frowned. He had a feeling that this wasn't normal Poland forgetfulness. This was something serious.

Only question is, how serious?

…

Matt was awoken by a paw hitting his face. He opened his eyes and glared at the little black bear glaring down at him.

"You've slept long enough," Kumakazi said. "Time to get up."

Matt swatted the bear away, but did so anyway.

He would occasionally sleep when he was at his house, but only when he was truly exhausted. And driving from Russia to Canada would definitely do it. In spite of acting mean towards him on occasion, Kumakazi was very protective of Matt, and he would openly threaten anyone that dared get too close to his master. And then there was the bear's ability to somehow grow three times larger than a regular bear when agitated, so whenever Matt had his bear with him, the other Nations gave him a wide berth.

He had wanted to ask Matthew if Kumajiro could do it as well. It might be interesting if that could happen.

When he entered the bathroom and saw Matthew, he wasn't really surprised to see Matthew with a stack of pancakes in front of him. He also enjoyed the fluffy goodness with the sugary gift from heaven. He's just useless in the kitchen, and he didn't dare try to cook.

He sighed. An old, familiar thought crept up on him. He really wanted to meet Matthew in the flesh, and perhaps have a one-on-one hockey match. He wanted to taste the pancakes that Matthew makes, since if _he_ was useless in the kitchen, then Matthew would be great. And he really wanted to pound some sense into the Nations in Matthew's world, and get rid of his anger towards them.

He sighed, placing a hand on the surface of the mirror, before withdrawing it immediately.

Something was not right.

He removed his glove, and placed his hand on the glass again. Instead of the cold he was expecting, the mirror felt warm, but not hot. And it didn't feel solid. It almost felt like the surface of water instead of a mirror. He pressed harder, and was surprised when it appeared that ripples started to appear.

And he saw Matthew tense.

**The name for Kumakazi is somewhat derived from Kamikaze. I just thought it would be cool.**


	6. Chapter 6: Crossing Boundaries

**Thanks to Dragonfire78, Miss Akiyata, Gort and Bumblekat for reviewing.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia.**

**Chapter 6: Crossing Boundaries**

_At one stage, either Black or White would reach the line._

_It is the line that separates the two sides._

_And, at some point, the line must be crossed._

…

France watched as England re-entered the room, having left to take the call. And judging by the Brit's expression, it wasn't exactly good news.

"What's wrong?" Scotland asked.

"That was Romania and Norway," England explained. "Lukas said that he had a conversation with his counterpart…"

"You can do that?" Prussia asked.

"Apparently. From what he could tell, the other Norway, Sigurd, is a little crazy and sadistic. They also appear to have different names from us."

"So your counterpart isn't named 'Arthur', then," Northern Ireland said.

"It would seem so. He also said that they can watch us, even if we're not in front of a mirror."

"Are you saying that we might be being watched?" Ireland asked.

France withdrew his mirror, and sighed in relief.

"Non," he said. "They appear to be having a meeting as well… Is that Poland and Lithuania?"

"Let me see," Prussia said. "Ja. I never thought I'd say this, but they look genuinely scary. So does Spain."

"Told you," Spain said.

"Let me see," Scotland said, moving to go over to the trio.

"No," England said. "That's part of what Romania told me. It spreads when two faces are reflected in the mirror. It must have affected me when Poland tried to show us."

"The bar," Spain said. "There was a mirror at the bar, and we spent the whole night there."

"France," England said. "Poland said that you saw the same reflection he did at the world meeting. Can you remember _whose_ reflection it was?"

France thought, and frowned. The more he thought about it, the more the memory seemed to fade away. He also found that he couldn't remember the name. All he could remember was a curl.

"Non," he said, bewildered. "It's strange, but it's like whoever it was is fading from my mind. As though he's fading from existence. And I feel like I should know who it is. But I remember that the Nation had a curl that stood out."

"That's helpful," Scotland snorted.

"No," Wales said. "It sounds like a spell. Either the Nation you saw cast a spell to make himself fade from your mind, or…"

"Or someone, or some_thing_ else is using him as a pawn," Ireland said.

"If that's the case," England said, "then we have something else on our hands. And something tells me that it's only the beginning."

…

Matthew shuddered. He suddenly felt a cold chill go down his spine, and he had no idea what could have caused it.

'Must just be my imagination,' Matthew thought.

Figuring that Matt would still be asleep, since he hardly ever got any sleep, he decided on a walk through the forest that surrounded his home.

Standing up, he ignored the wave of dizziness, as well as the cold feeling that threatened his senses.

Grabbing his coat, he went outside the door, not seeing the concerned look that Kumajiro gave him, for if he had, he would have been frozen in shock.

…

Matt kept placing his hand on the surface of the mirror, and applying pressure. It felt as though he was pressing against the surface of water without trying to get wet. It has never happened before, and he didn't know what was going on.

But, for once, he didn't shy away from or attack something new. Instead, he was trying to figure it out. He was… curious.

He applied even more pressure, and it was as though he was pressing through cold soup. But then he stopped, eyes wide in surprise.

His hand, up to the wrist, disappeared through the mirror.

…

Moldova smiled brightly. He didn't know why, but his reflection was different, and he liked it.

He had spent a few hours speaking to his reflection, who seemed just a little annoyed by Alexndru's cheerfulness. But it was fine. He might have made a new friend. Someone that was curious about _him_. And he was curious about him as well.

"How are you so cheerful all the time?" the other Moldova, Andrei, asked, a little annoyed.

"Why not?" Alexandru countered. "When things are looking down, then a little cheer goes a long way. And besides, if the others see that I'm smiling, even if things are horrible, then they think that I'm stronger than I look, and that they wouldn't be able to bring me down."

"So," Andrei said, "what you're saying is, you're cheerful because you don't want the other Nations to think that they can break your spirit?"

"Something like that."

"Huh. I'm impressed."

"Besides, I've got my big brothers to protect me, so I have nothing to fear."

"Brother_s_? I only have Romania…"

"Russia's not my real brother, but he likes it if I call him that. And he can actually be nice sometimes. Like you should have seen the time when his cat went missing. I have never seen Russia look so sad in my life. And then, when we finally found the cat… Have you ever heard Russia _sing_ before?"

Andrei looked thoughtful for a moment, trying to imagine that happening, and apparently couldn't do it.

"Anything else?" Andrei asked.

"Well… There was that one time when Big Brother Romania used his magic to turn everything in Miss Hungary's house pink and girly. He also got rid of some of her books. They're always trying to murder each other, but that time… Hell hath no fury like a Hungarian woman scorned."

"Hungary and Romania hate each other? Strange. They're practically best friends. And Hungary _is_ girly… Although, if we're each other's opposites, then it makes sense. And if that's the case, then it's a really funny story. So, those two hate each other?"

"Are you kidding? Hungary names dogs after Romanians, while Hungarians are the butt of a lot of Romanian jokes."

They spent the next few hours chatting about the differences between the Nations on both sides, and Alexandru managed to make Andrei laugh a few times, while also impressing him of his tolerance for scary stories.

…

Canada smiled, stepping out. It was spring, and while the air was still cool, it wasn't cold. It was refreshing.

He walked a familiar trail, the one that he always used to take a stroll. He knew the route by heart now.

He hoped that the fresh air would help alleviate his dizziness. He had no idea what could be causing it, and sincerely hoped that it was nothing. It couldn't be the beginnings of a cold. His economy was doing too well for it to be an issue. So what?

As he went deeper and deeper into the forest, he couldn't help but think that something was seriously wrong.

Up ahead, he heard a drip-drip-dripping, and he frowned in confusion. He walked further, until he could see the source of the dripping. And he wished that he didn't.

Never before had he felt so cold. Never before had he felt so sick. And never before had he felt so terrified.

He collapsed against a nearby tree, too shocked by what he saw. And then everything fell into place, and he emptied his stomach.

…

Matt noted, with concern, that Matthew was pale when he stepped out of the house. He also saw him looking a little off-balance a few times.

'He shouldn't be going out for a walk when he's not feeling well.'

So, from a distance, since he had no choice, he watched as Matthew made his way down the trail, and he couldn't help the unease.

And when he saw what Matthew saw, he knew that he had to go to support his counterpart. It was time for trial and error as he pushed his way through the mirror.

…

Matthew was horrified. How could anyone do such a thing?

High on the branches, someone had impaled the mutilated corpses of dozens of forest creatures. The dripping he had heard was the sound of blood dripping.

He felt arms wrap around him, and a sob escaped his throat. He couldn't see who the other person was, he just knew that the arms were meant to be comforting.

Something scared him more than seeing the corpses.

It had happened so close to his own house. Not the home of the country, but the home of Matthew Williams himself. It terrified him.

"Shh," the other person soothed. "Let's get you out of here."

It was with a jolt that Matthew realised that he recognised the voice. He looked towards the face of the other, eyes wide in confusion and immense relief.

"Matt?"

…

Poland, Romania and Lithuania felt a chill go down their spines simultaneously. Poland even dropped the book he was holding, which opened to a page showing artwork of a humanoid figure, the left side demonic, while the right side was angelic.

…

Alexandru shuddered, and Andrei stared in confusion.

"Something wrong?" the blonde asked.

"I don't know," the brunet said. "Something just feels… wrong."

Andrei frowned, but said nothing else about it. The two continued to talk, as though nothing happened.

…

Norway felt a shudder go down his spine, and something told him that it was serious. He looked down at the book that he was skimming through, and the words that seemed to jump out to him, _'Protect the original'_, made him feel just a little colder.

…

Scotland frowned when he saw England, Spain, France and Prussia all shudder. It was a bad omen if _one_ person shuddered, but for _four_ to shudder at the same time…

Scotland exchanged a look with Wales, and he knew that the other was thinking the same thing.

"Alright then," Scotland said. "There's one good thing about you all being here. More people to help us look in the library."

"What?!" Prussia exclaimed. "We did not agree to…"

"You want to find a solution to your problem?" Wales interrupted. "Or would you rather see a stranger every time you look in the mirror that may or may not be a psychopath?"

Spain was the first to jump up.

"I'm in," he said. "Let's go!"

Scotland inwardly smirked. Wales had a way to get people to do what he wanted them to do. The Ireland twins had the exact same talent.

There was one advantage that the UK siblings had. Since England was the one to always represent them, the other Nations were used to England, and knew how he did things, and they knew his weaknesses, and they knew all his strengths. But the rest of the UK were in the shadows, and so, if any of the other Nations had to deal with the rest of the UK, then they would have all the knowledge and experience that the Nations of their age would have, but the others wouldn't be able to know how to handle them. Only a few Nations knew about them, and those Nations were scared of them.

…

England frowned. He had kept an eye on his counterpart, and the meeting that Arthur was having. He was a little surprised by the simultaneous shudders, and he frowned.

"Did something happen, England?" Poland asked.

"Just something strange," he said. "But nothing of significance. Also, apparently we need to have two people reflected in the same mirror for it to spread."

"I think we have enough players," Lithuania said.

"I agree," Poland said. "The more players, the less victims we can have."

"What about Italy?" Spain asked. "Don't you think he'd want to take part in this?"

They exchanged a look, and the temperature seemed to drop significantly.

"Um, let's not go there," Prussia said. "Not unless we have to."

"For once I agree with mister hopeless," Poland said. "We only get him in on it when we have to."

"And I get a feeling we'd know when _that _happens," France said. "Either our counterparts would let us know, or _he_ would let us know."

…

Veneziano frowned. He had the strangest feeling that someone was speaking about him.

He toyed with the knife in his hand, wondering who could be talking about him, and _what_ they could be talking about.

He had dark brown hair with one errant curl standing out from the rest. His eyes were a pinkish-red colour, and his skin was tanned dark. He wore the fascist uniform, like so many of his people. The uniform was dark in colour, and underneath he wore a black shirt with a red tie. He wore black boots and black gloves, and there was also a black Bustina cap tilting towards the left side of his head.

"Fratello," a familiar voice sang. "Are you going to help me make our special pasta?"

Even though they were twins, they looked, and acted, completely different. Romano had blond hair, but also an errant curl, and had red eyes. His skin was significantly paler than his brother's, and while the other usually had a calm or annoyed expression on his face, Romano always looked cheerful. He wore a white designer jacket with matching pants and white boots. The shirt he wore underneath the jacket was unknown, due to the scarf tucked into the jacket, which was a dark pink colour. He also wore red sunglasses, white gloves, and a red fez hat tilting towards the right of his head.

Veneziano sighed, before smiling. Whoever it is, it better not be an assassination attempt, because he didn't want to hear Romano complaining about getting bloodstains out of clothes _again_.

…

Matt helped Matthew into his house. The smaller Canadian was still very pale, and Matt noticed, with a bit of worry, that the other was trembling. And after what they had just seen, it was understandable. Matt himself felt a little nauseous, and that was saying something, considering everything that he had seen.

"How could anyone do that?" Matthew asked. "How could anyone do something like that to the animals?"

"I don't know," Matt said. "I don't know."

He realised that his wish had come true. He was in Matthew's world, meeting Matthew in the flesh. He realised that he could play a one-on-one hockey match with the friend he had made months ago. He could try the other Canadian's pancakes. He could even go into town and not worry about someone trying to kill him.

But he couldn't, not now. He had to help his friend, who was in shock, and a bit of disbelief about Matt being there. At least, Matthew had a friend that would help him when he needed it and wouldn't forget about him two minutes later.

Matt brought Matthew over to the couch, sitting him down.

"Matt?" Matthew spoke. "How are you here?"

"I don't know," Matt admitted. "I just pushed through the mirror."

Now that they could truly compare each other without a glass barrier between them, and since Matt could in fact feel it, he noticed that Matthew had a smaller built than him. They were equally tall, and the bone structure was also the same, but Matt had more muscle than him. Probably because Matt actively picked fights with the other Nations from his world, while Matthew was a pacifist, and the fact that he was mostly unnoticed also made sure that the Nations from Matthew's world didn't pick a fight with him.

"I didn't know we could do that," Matthew said.

"Today's the first time we _could_," Matt said. "Believe me, I've tried before."

"I just assumed…"

"Who are you?" a voice interrupted.

Both Canadians turned to regard Kumajiro, but Matt noticed that it was mostly directed at him, and not at Matthew. He also noticed a little worry in the bear's expression.

"Canada," Matt said. "I'm your owner's counterpart from another world."

"How'd you get here?" Kumajiro asked.

"Through the mirror."

"What happened?"

This time, the question was directed at Matthew.

"K-Kuma, it was awful," Matthew said. "All those animals… butchered, then hung up on the trees. Matt, you don't think that it could have been someone from your world? Because my people wouldn't do something like that, and the other Nations wouldn't try something like that either."

"It's not a Nation from my world," Matt said. "While we would do that to humans, we would never do that to animals. No one is stupid enough to test our wrath."

"'Our'?"

"Several Nations have made it clear that we won't allow animals to be harmed in any way, shape or form, since we would beat up everyone together. These Nations are myself, Brazil, Australia, India, China, Taiwan, and more than half the African continent. Trust me, no one is that stupid."

Matthew nodded his head in understanding.

"Could you stay a little longer?" Matthew asked. "I just… it was so close to…"

Matt sighed, before he nodded in confirmation.

"Thanks," Matthew said. "I think… I need to call the ranger station. Let them know what happened."

…

America was flicking through the channels, looking for something to watch (but nothing was ever worth watching), when he came upon a news channel. He knew that it was too early for the news to be broadcast, so it had to be something important.

He was surprised to see that it was from Canada. Apparently, dozens of animals in a forest had been butchered, so much so that the forest floor was soaked in blood, but that wasn't what caught his attention.

It was when they mentioned who had found this atrocity. Matthew Williams. Canada himself. And then there was the fact that it was so close to his brother's personal home.

"He's going to need a hero," America whispered, already getting his keys, but froze when he passed a mirror.

For just a split second, his reflection had flickered, and the one that he saw was not him. It was a stranger.

**To be honest, I almost forgot about Moldova. So here they are. And America had a brief glance.**

**The other 2Ps won't be breaking through anytime soon, since the Canadas have been doing this a lot longer than they had.**

**Ugh, my brain is about to fry. I had signed up for my university's French and German courses, and last year I started learning Polish. My mom is Portuguese and had tried to teach me at a young age, but it wouldn't stick, except for when I'm in French class. Add that to the Afrikaans and English I already know… Yeah, too many languages filtering through my brain at once. And most of them are subconscious, so even if I put one on hold, they would still intersect. Also, four sets of the alphabet in one week… not good.**


	7. Chapter 7: Spicing Up the Game

**Thanks to Dragonfire78, lunaofthebloodysand, Miss Akiyata, Gort and OutTheRulez for reviewing.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia.**

**Chapter 7: Spicing up the Game**

_Black is ready to play, but White still hesitates._

_But something has happened that would cause White to play._

_That is what we wanted._

…

He didn't like it that his discovery had gone on the news. He didn't mind that his people knew about what had happened, or that it was so close to his own home. But something like this was huge, and so, it had been announced to the entire world.

And now, it was lunch, and he was making pancakes for himself, Kumajiro, and Matt. The larger Canadian insisted that he stayed to offer assistance to the smaller counterpart. And Matthew didn't mind. The animals were still slightly warm, so they hadn't been killed too long ago. And there was a slight possibility that the perpetrator was still in the area. Honestly, Matthew didn't want to be alone at the moment.

"Man, that smells good," Matt said. "I haven't had decent pancakes in a _long_ time."

"I'm glad you think it smells nice," Matthew said. "You know, this is the first time in a long time that I'm making pancakes for someone else other than me and Kumajiro. Well, there's Alfred every now and again, but usually it's when I've already made for myself."

Matt scowled.

"Let me guess," he said. "You never make enough, and he interrupts just when you want to start eating."

Matthew paused, before he sighed, nodding his head. He figured Matt might have seen it happen a few times.

"You need to be as assertive as you are aggressive in the hockey rink," Matt said. "By the way, I still want to play a game."

Matthew smiled. Yes, a one-on-one game against him sounded nice. It would be nice to play against someone that would actually put up a fight.

"I'd like that," Matthew said, making sure that there were three plates heaped with pancakes.

As he placed the plates on the table, along with three bottles of maple syrup, it was as though it was a cue, and two Canadians and a bear proceeded to drench the pancakes in maple syrup.

"Awesome," Matt said after he had swallowed his first bite. "Not a lot of Nations in my world know how to cook, and those that do… Let's just say, you don't want to eat what they make. I'm glad I've developed a resistance against poison. The _other_ popular ingredient, on the other hand…"

Matthew swallowed, not liking where it was going.

"And eating with Allen isn't really worthwhile," Matt continued.

Matthew frowned. He knew that the two North Americans weren't the best of friends, but they at least tolerated each other better than most other Nations. But he didn't know why eating with the America of that world would be a problem. And seeing his look, Matt laughed.

"Al's a vegan," he explained. "It's a little hard to eat something if your company keeps lecturing you about something you like to eat, and can actually cook. At least I like my steak any way."

Matthew tried to imagine Alfred as a vegan, and knew that the other wouldn't be able to survive without his precious hamburgers.

…

Allen frowned. He had hoped to have a little 'fun' with Matt, but the other wasn't there. And he was currently being faced with a very large, very angry black bear.

Allen was dark-skinned, and had dark brown, almost black hair with an annoying cowlick that he couldn't get rid of. He had pink-red eyes hidden behind a pair of black sunglasses. He wore a black tee-shirt underneath a dark brown bomber jacket and black jeans with black boots.

Allen knew that Kumakazi only went into the large black bear at home when Matt wasn't there, or he was asleep. That bear was the number one reason why no one dared to try to hurt Matt when he was asleep, especially when he brought his pet along.

"If he gets back," Allen said to the bear, "then tell him I was here."

The bear grunted, and Allen knew that it was a confirmation. So, without another word, he turned and returned to his car, where he immediately turned the ignition on.

He knew the difference between sleeping protection and away protection. The fact that the bear had met him near the door was reason enough to know that the Canadian wasn't home. For if he was asleep, the bear would only be sticking around the other's room, and not leave his side.

Checking the driveway, he saw the other's truck was still parked there. And that acted as a confirmation that the other hadn't left Canada. However, as the second largest landmass, there were far too many places for him to be.

…

Norway sighed, putting another book away. No information whatsoever, but for some strange reason, a specific, random sentence seemed to gnaw at his mind.

_Protect the original._

He searched for the book that he read it from, searching through the pages until he saw the sentence that seemed to jump out. He should have seen it as important before, especially regarding the feeling he got at that time.

His eyes found the top of the passage, and he started to read.

_There are many things that remain a mystery. But occasionally, these mysteries are discovered. In cases such as these, then one thing is important. Protect the original. For the one that originally discovered the mystery will be targeted by forces related to the mystery, and forces related to those forces. Danger will follow them, and balance will be threatened. For mysteries are meant to remain mysteries. The price will be paid, one way or another._

Norway frowned in thought. When he had skimmed through it before, he had figured that it was just something random. Now that he thought about it, it might be relevant to the current situation. After all, the world behind the mirrors _was_ a mystery. A mystery that the magic trio was trying to solve. And Poland said that he had seen another, strange reflection. Poland was the one that notified them, but he was not the first to discover it. But then, why weren't they notified another time?

Unless, of course, the one that discovered it was responsible. If that was the case, then they needed to find any Nation with the magic touch and discover the spell that they used. It would have been easier if they knew who Poland saw in the mirror.

A thought occurred to Norway. Poland said that the memory eluded him. But what if they refreshed his memory? What if he remembered if he saw the Nation again?

They couldn't wait for another world meeting, so he went with the next best thing. Unfortunately, that meant speaking to one of his former colonies, and a Nation currently controlled by Denmark. He just hoped she would agree.

He also hoped she wouldn't ask too much questions, and if she does, she would believe the answers he gave.

Luckily, the other Nordics were still asleep.

…

"We seem to be having a little problem," Oliver said, pouting.

Poland sighed.

"And what would _that_ be?" he asked.

"They seem to be avoiding mirrors," England said. "It's going to be a little hard for us to play with them if they're avoiding us."

"He's right," Spain said. "What do you propose we do?"

"Well," Romania said, "I used to do it a lot to the 'rulers' of my enemies. I would torture them in their sleep. Their dreams."

"Do you think it could work?" Norway asked.

"It might," Poland said. "From what I could tell, they actually sleep every night."

"I'll search for the spell, then," Romania said. "It should be fun."

"Hang on," England said. "The others had some interesting information. Apparently, this all started when their Poland and France saw someone else in the mirror. They can't remember who it is, but…"

"That probably means that there's someone else involved," Norway finished.

"Someone that might know more about the whole situation," Romania said. "Including how to get there."

Poland arched an intrigued eyebrow, the thought sparking new possibilities.

"Try to work on the dream spell first," Poland said. "And then, we'll see if we can find out if anyone else is involved. Until then, see what you can do with your playmates. Now, I think it's time for everyone to get out of my house."

…

"Why do you have all these books?" Prussia groaned.

"Partly for research, partly for the spells," England said.

"Do any of these spells actually work?" Spain asked.

"Aye," Scotland said. "But for a spell to work, you need to have the magic touch. And not a lot of Nations have that."

"I know of Russia and Belarus," England said. "Australia, South Africa, New Zealand, Brazil, Greenland, Madagascar, Portugal, Peru, Jamaica and Egypt. Any others are a mystery."

"The magic trio have the strongest magic touch," Wales said. "We also have the magic touch, but our magical ability has been toned down."

"Why?" France asked.

Wales's gaze fell to England, who avoided his brother's gaze.

"Long story."

"Um, Artie," Ireland said. "I think we have a problem."

"What kind of problem?" England asked.

"When was the last time you performed a spell from this book?"

England looked over towards the tome that Ireland held in his hand and frowned.

"I've never used a spell from that book," England said, coming closer.

"That's not what the trace says," Ireland said. "There's a spell that was used a few months ago."

England snatched the book and paled.

"'A friend that knows your other side'," he read. "Any spell regarding 'other side' often means mirror. Is it possible that…?"

England's hand started to glow green, and once the glow faded, he was looking really pale.

"What is it?" Northern Ireland asked.

"This spell has been used," he said. "But it wasn't me. Someone managed to get into my library. But how?"

"Can you trace it?" Scotland asked.

"No," England said. "The magical trace that's surrounding the page suggests that whoever used the spell was a Nation, but he or she didn't have the magic touch."

"But I thought you said…" Prussia said.

"There is one exception to the rule," Wales said. "If whoever uses the spell is truly desperate for the results, then the spell would work, whether or not they have the magic touch."

"And judging from which spell was used," Ireland said, "then it had to be a really lonely Nation."

"And it went unnoticed for months," England whispered.

"Then that Nation must be isolated, if the effects went unnoticed for this long," Northern Ireland said.

"Can you think of anyone that could have used the spell?" Scotland asked. "Someone that came for a visit and stumbled on the book?"

England frowned in thought. He was mostly visited by France, America, his brothers, Australia, New Zealand, India, and…

His eyes narrowed thoughtfully. There was someone else that visited him, but he couldn't remember. Whenever he tried to think of a name, or try to recall the face, it slipped farther and farther away.

Remembering the feeling France described, he could only come to one conclusion: that the Nation that visited him and the one France saw were one and the same. He tried to think back for several years, but the memory was always foggy, as though something didn't want him to remember.

"Our mystery Nation," England sighed. "It's possible that the isolation isn't the Nation's choice. I can't remember any details either, but there's a foggy figure in my memory. I think there might have been a spell used to make others forget about him."

"Which would result in desperation," Wales said.

At that moment, England's phone started to ring.

…

Romania disconnected the call, stepping back into the library. He was partially pleased, and partially annoyed, to notice that Poland and Lithuania had fallen asleep.

Norway did provide a good idea, trying to see if Poland or France would be able to remember the mystery Nation if they were provided a picture. They were actually quite lucky that Greenland had a certain gift when it came to information. Being able to gain information on any and all Nations, including a photo of each Nation.

'Why hadn't we thought of this sooner?' Romania thought.

England had also found something useful. One of his spells had been used by someone other than him. By someone that didn't have the magic touch. By someone truly desperate. And that whoever their mystery Nation was, he was affected by something that made him easily forgotten, and his desperation was driven by loneliness.

He knew that there was little he could do at the moment, so it might be a good idea to check the news. See what was happening with the rest of the world.

He turned on the TV to an international news station. He actually wanted to see Nations going through normal problems. He wanted to remember that normalcy still existed.

So far, the biggest piece of news was the slaughter of dozens of animals in a forest in Canada, dangerously close to the personification's house.

Romania frowned, trying to recall where he heard the name 'Canada' before. He tried to recall any memories, but it seemed to avoid him. He frowned in thought, and then grabbed a pen and a piece of paper. He wrote down 'Canada' on the page, making a mental note to have them look at the Nation's photo first.

He suddenly felt that he wasn't alone. That he was being watched. He stood from the couch he sat on, eyes searching. He could see nothing. But that did not mean that there was nothing there.

He felt the temperature drop, and he started to get a bad feeling. He let out a startled yelp when he was suddenly pushed back, colliding against the wall. He felt his feet several centimetres off the ground, and something similar to a hand around his throat. He struggled and gasped for air, without much success.

"_You have no idea what you're messing with, boy,"_ a voice whispered. A voice that had no human quality. _"After all, you Nations have been around since civilization began. But what came _before_ civilization? You think you know all the mysteries of the world, since you know the whole world. But we do not allow you to know of _us_. There are secrets of the land that not even you Nations may know."_

By now, Romania was having difficulty breathing. As his vision faded to black, he was sure that he could see a vague outline. An outline that looked like a human with soulless black eyes.

…

Matt sighed. He knew that, at some point, he would have to return home. Back to a violent, messed up world. If he could, he would rather stay. But he knew that if he stayed, then there would be a possibility that one of the Nations in his world would decide that his land was theirs for the taking.

And then there's the fact that Kumakazi was alone at home. He had no idea what sort of damage the bear might do with his impromptu leaving.

"Are you sure you need to go?" Matthew asked.

"I don't want to," Matt said. "But I have no choice, if I want to make sure my home stays safe from the others."

"Are you sure that you _can_ go back?"

Matt gave a small smile.

"There's only one way to find out, isn't there?"

"I guess," Matthew said. "And, next time, it's my turn to go to your world."

Matt could feel the panic coming along. That was the last thing he wanted. He didn't want Matthew to be exposed to _anything_ from his world.

"I don't think that's a good idea," Matt said. "You know how dangerous everyone in my world is."

Matthew sighed, but nodded his head. He knew full well about the Nations in Matt's world.

…

Poland awoke with a start.

He noticed that Lithuania was nearby, using several books as pillows. Poland was doing the same.

And Romania was missing.

He frowned in confusion before he heard the sound of voices speaking. He made his way to the living room, where he noticed that the TV was on, but Romania wasn't on the couch.

Poland's eyes swept across the room until he found a figure slumped against the wall, clearly unconscious.

Poland rushed over to him, and saw that he seemed to be having trouble breathing. Following what little common sense he had, he opened up the other's shirt colour to make it easier to breathe, and he jumped back in surprise.

On Romania's neck, bruises were starting to form.

Romania didn't collapse, as Poland originally thought.

He was attacked.

…

Now, more than ever, Canada felt lonely.

Matt had already left, and he understood perfectly well why. Matt was afraid that his version of Canada would also be in trouble, and so it was understandable that Matt had to leave, if only to provide a physical presence to keep the country intact. And to make sure that the other Nations didn't use his home as a nuclear test site, or went to get to the natural resources, or hunt his animals for food, or enslaved his people (that was technically his job).

Matthew was fascinated by the procedure of Matt going through the mirror. It was like slowly making your way through water. Matthew had felt the glass himself, and he was actually very pleased to see that he couldn't feel glass, but an almost liquid sensation.

But Matt had told him not to go to his world, and Matthew knew perfectly well what the reason was. It still didn't ease the pain.

But he was very glad that his counterpart seemed to like his pancakes. It always made him happy when people liked his pancakes, even though it hardly ever happened. And for his best friend, his dark twin, to like it, probably made things all the more worthwhile.

There was a frantic knocking on the door. Canada sighed, figuring that it had to do with his discovery that morning.

But, when he opened the door, he did not expect who he saw.

"Never fear, 'cause the hero is here!"


	8. Chapter 8: North and South

**Thanks to xxSparkle-chanxx, Kuro Ao no Neko, Gort, Dragonfire78 and Miss Akiyata for reviewing.**

**This is more or less a filler chapter, but it's kind of important. It introduces several 2Ps, and it also includes a bit of an explanation to the current affairs in the 2P world.**

**And do you guys know how much fun it is to create OCs, and then 2Ps of those OCs?**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia.**

**Chapter 8: North and South**

_Black and White are not the only shades there are._

_They need to remember that there are Grey areas as well._

…

Germany sighed. Prussia was nowhere in sight, and they had a meeting of the Northern Powers. As it was, if he waited another two minutes to leave, then he would be late.

Lutz had messy blond hair that he kept somewhat under control by wearing a cap. He had violet eyes, dark rings under them, and a scar on his left cheek. He wore a white tank top that he kept untucked, and on his shoulders hung a tan coloured jacket. There were scars on his right forearm, a result of being allies with Italy. His black cargo pants were tucked into his brown boots, and there was a knife strapped to his belt.

He lit a cigarette before deciding that it wouldn't be worth it to wait for Prussia, and to keep Italy waiting. The only reason Germany took him along was because Prussia knew a thing or two about going unnoticed, and could occasionally be used as a spy against the Southern Powers.

…

It was a completely normal occurrence in the Asian house. The four of them were fighting.

China had chin-length black hair and red eyes. He wore a black military cap on his head, and he wore a red Changsan, his sleeves just a little too short. His pants were grey and he usually wore black slippers. There was a black sash tied loosely around his waist. The usually quiet Nation was threatening his siblings with the butcher knife he always carried.

Japan wore the black uniform of the Japanese navy. His hair and eyes were identical colours to China's, only his hair was shorter. His katana was in his hand, and he was attacking his siblings with it.

Korea had brown hair and blue eyes. He wore a black long-sleeved shirt underneath a red short-sleeved shirt, naturally a little larger than the black shirt. He also wore black jeans and combat boots. He fought with a spear.

Hong Kong also had black hair and red eyes. He wore a black shirt and loose-fitting black pants. He was fighting hand-to-hand, since he couldn't exactly use his flamethrower in this particular fight.

They all paused when they heard an incessant beeping. Japan separated himself from the death grip Hong Kong had on his throat and went towards his cell phone, the alarm having gone off. He looked at the screen before he shut off the alarm, sneering in disgust and groaning. He turned towards his siblings, who were all looking at him.

"I have to go," Kyo said. "Northern Power meeting. You know how Italy gets."

The others groaned as well before they separated from each other, putting away their weapons. Hong Kong smiled.

"Oh well," he said. "Have fun. Or as much fun as you can. I'll make some treats for when you come back."

Japan nodded before he walked out the door. The four of them were quite close, despite what others thought. Fighting was their way of bonding. As though the North Americans don't do it as well.

In a world as rotten as theirs, family is actually very important. They were usually the only ones you could trust.

…

Brazil looked over his shoulder, trying to determine if anyone was following them. Seeing that it wasn't the case, he relaxed slightly, but didn't lower his guard.

The meeting of the Southern Powers was in India, and it was a little too close to the North for their liking. Which is why he didn't come alone.

Walking on his left was Argentina. She had wavy blond hair that came to her shoulder blades. Her blue eyes were always on high alert, and she never missed anything. She wore a blue dress with a black belt tied around the waist, black boots laced up and black fishnet gloves. She carried an mk5 rifle over her shoulder.

Walking on his right was Peru. He had shoulder length black hair tied in a ponytail and green eyes. He wore brown cargo pants, a camo shirt with a brown sleeveless jacket, hanging open. He also wore a pair of black combat boots. Hidden in his many pockets were a variety of handguns. He also carried a belt with ammunition, just in case he didn't have enough bullets in the twenty or so guns to finish the job.

He knew that it wasn't necessary for them to accompany him, but they were less likely to be attacked when they were in a group. And he didn't want all of the South Americans in one place, just in case the North decided to launch a pre-emptive strike.

The Northern Nations didn't get along nearly as much as the Southern Nations. Sure, they still had their problems with each other, but unlike the North, they could still unite and fight alongside each other. That was probably the one advantage the South had over the North.

They could get along.

For centuries, the Northern Nations had ruled the world. But now it was the turn of the South. The Southern Asians sympathised with the South Americans, the Africans and the Oceanic Nations, so they joined the Southern Powers.

The first to join was India, and he became the leader of the Southern Asians. He was also the closest friend to Brazil and South Africa. The next to join was Afghanistan, Pakistan and Bangladesh. Surprisingly, the next to join was Taiwan, followed closely by Thailand and Vietnam. Malaysia and Singapore came next, followed by Nepal, Cambodia and Indonesia. East Timor and Laos needed some convincing. Sri Lanka and Myanmar were the last to join.

They probably had to check on Oceania, but they worked on their own. They were fortunate that they were still against the Northern Powers, and they did cooperate with the Southern Powers most days, but they didn't like to take orders.

But, to be honest, the Southern Powers were merely waiting for the Oceanic Nations to join before they did anything. This was confidential information, and only the three leaders knew of this. So it was very important to keep Australia on their side.

They already had a slight advantage over the Northern Powers. They outnumber them.

…

South Africa walked through the streets in India, Mozambique and Namibia by her side. They were not only her neighbours, but her sisters. She trusted them more than most. The only others she trusted as much was the Southern African Union, of which Namibia was a member, but not Mozambique. Mozambique had to keep an eye on their mutual neighbour, Zimbabwe. He had a habit to do things for his own benefit, including betraying his allies. And since Mozambique was with her, she had Botswana do the babysitting.

The three of them looked a lot alike, with minor differences. Namibia had platinum blond hair with violet eyes. Her Germanic heritage was clear in the bored expression in her eyes. She wore a simple blue tee-shirt with a pair of shorts and flip-flops.

Mozambique had black hair and brown eyes, just like South Africa. The biggest difference to tell them apart was the fact that Mozambique had darker skin then her sister. She also preferred to keep her hair in a high ponytail. She wore an oversized red shirt with a pair of jeans and white sneakers. She also had a rifle over her shoulder.

The South African trio kept close to each other. Always.

She saw Brazil coming from the other side of the street and moved to join him.

"Ola, Brazilia," she said, before she actually joined him.

He turned around, along with the others, and as soon as he saw her relaxed.

"Alida," he greeted. "You should give more warning."

"I did," she said. "Besides, Ricardo, who else in India would call you 'Brazilia'?"

"There's always Portugal."

"He doesn't have access here, remember," Mozambique pointed out. "And besides, I call you that."

"Sim," Brazil nodded.

Namibia sighed, being the only one with no Portuguese or Spanish history.

"Has Australia contacted you yet?" Brazil asked.

"Not yet," she sighed. "But at least the Northern Powers hasn't gained an advantage."

"We're still the top dogs, so to speak."

…

Italy checked his watch and sighed, turning to face his younger brother. Seborga was reading a book, and it was time for him to leave. A meeting of the Powers was no place for a Micronation.

Seborga had dark red hair and red eyes. He wore a black suit, tailored by Romano, and Italy had to admit that the younger looked nice in it. He was extremely pale, preferring to stay indoors instead of going outdoors. He was afraid of the prospect of running into a woman. The youngest never knew what to do when confronted with a girl, especially a pretty one.

"Francesco," Luciano said, and the younger man looked up at him. "I think it's about time you go. Germany and Japan are on their way."

Francesco sighed, marking the page he was reading. He didn't complain, knowing that he needed to make himself scarce. The Micronations weren't welcome in the meetings of the actual Nations, and the consequences tended to be severe.

Seborga knew, deep down, that in the end, Italy was just trying to protect him. No one would think that Veneziano would be able to be compassionate, but only Seborga saw that side. Not even Romano knew that that side existed to that extent. Sure, Veneziano would show it in small amounts towards Romano, but he wasn't immune to his younger brother's cruelty. Only Seborga could say that he never experienced his brother's cruelty.

…

England sighed happily, looking through the mirror. Arthur was still looking through the books, along with the others, and they were clearly getting crankier the more time passed. He still found it amusing that they needed so much sleep.

His doorbell rang, and he happily went to the door. Standing at the door were his four brothers.

Scotland had black hair and blue eyes. He wore a light blue shirt with a kilt and knee-high white socks with black shoes.

Wales had dirty blond hair and blue eyes. He wore a green tee-shirt and baggy jeans.

The Ireland twins had dark blond hair and blue eyes. Ireland wore a bright yellow jumpsuit while Northern Ireland wore a neon orange. Both of them preferred to keep their hair messy.

Oliver smirked when he saw them. He always enjoyed spending time with his brothers.

…

Estonia glared at the device before shoving it aside, annoyed out of his mind. He couldn't figure out anything that had to do with technology.

Not even his very old cell phone.

Why couldn't they simply write letters and mail them, like they had done for centuries?

Kristofer had messy brown hair and blue eyes. He wore a light green shirt and a pair of slim-fitting blue pants underneath a baggy pair of brown overalls, stained with blood, tucked into black boots. Over the overalls he wore a utility belt, the only thing on it being a large hammer caked with blood.

Latvia entered the room, looking at him with a bit of disdain before sitting down, reading a book. They were at the kitchen table of Estonia's home. They would've gone to Lithuania's, but the eldest Baltic had been busy with Poland for a while, which could only mean that they were playing a game. The younger two Baltics were silently sympathetic for the poor unfortunate soul they chose as their victim this time.

Davis had shocking red hair and golden eyes. The quiet Baltic wore a simple black shirt with a pair of jeans, also splattered in blood. His white sneakers also had blood stains on them. On the Latvian's belt were a lot of pockets where he kept his many knives, darts, and a gun.

"Latvia," Estonia said, and a slight incline of the head was the only hint he had that the other was listening, "how do I send a missed call? Finland asked me to send him one when I have time, but I have no idea what to do."

…

Australia handed his koala a piece of eucalyptus, and the creature took it gratefully. She was a sweet thing, and Australia adored her. Of course, no one else could get even a percentage of the affection the Australian gave his pet. No one else ever received kindness from him.

He preferred to spend time with animals more than people, and his clothes, which were outfitted for camping, reflected that. Basically, a khaki shirt and shorts, and black hiking boots. He had blond hair and blue eyes, and there was a scar over his nose, and another on his right cheek. There was a huge knife sheathed at his waist.

Once, when Italy threatened him with a knife, he merely took out his own. His exact words were: _You call that a knife?_ This_ is a knife_. Needless to say, Italy never threatened him with a knife again.

The Southern Powers were asking him to join, along with the rest of the Oceanic Nations. He still hadn't decided. He supported them, but he didn't know if he was willing to actively participate. He didn't know whether or not he wanted to work with people.

And so, Bruce was left thinking about everything the Northern Nations, especially England and Scotland, had done to and for him, and everything the Southern Nations had done.

And so far, he couldn't think of one bad thing the Southern Nations had done to him. He had no reason to want to become their enemy. But did he want to become their ally?

…

Russia entered the kitchen to see Ukraine and Belarus already there. Belarus had mentioned that she had gotten some very important information that she needed to share.

Russia was a large and imposing man, and the fact that he would look at you from cold, unfeeling red eyes tended to make people squirm. He had brown hair, like his sisters. He wore a large black coat, black pants and black boots. The only colour that joined his outfit was the blood red scarf around his neck.

Ukraine had long brown hair and rose-coloured eyes. She wore an elegant black dress with black gloves and black high-heeled boots. Her cold eyes regarded him when he entered.

Belarus, on the other hand, was the only one with a bit of warmth around her. She had long brown hair as well and pink-red eyes. She wore a pink dress and there was a pink flower in her hair. She also had a pink necklace.

"So," Russia said, immediately turning to Belarus, "you said you had important information?"

Belarus was an excellent spy. In fact, Russia almost considered allowing the Northern Powers to borrow her services.

"Yes," she said. "Poland and Lithuania are playing another game. And this time, it's going to be big."

Russia and Ukraine regarded her closely.

"How big?" Ukraine asked. "And with whom are they playing?"

All three of them had been victims at some point. They didn't like knowing that there is a game to be played.

"I don't know who the victims are, but I do know that the magic trio has been involved, as well as Spain, France and Prussia."

The elder two siblings shared a look.

"Why them?" Russia asked. "I understand that those two would use the magic trio, having the strongest magic touch and all, but the other three?"

"Who knows what they're thinking?" Ukraine said. "Does Italy know?"

"Not as far as I know," Belarus said.

"Then let's keep it that way," Russia said. "We don't need _him_ getting involved."

"What if he's the victim?" Belarus asked. "Or, what if they're targeting the Southern Powers? It would make sense for them all to be involved, then."

"They may be crazy," Ukraine said. "But they won't try it. Not with things as they are. That is suicide, and the South might just consider it a pre-emptive strike. And that would, in turn, cause the rest of the world to retaliate, and those two would be the first we target."

"True," Russia said. "Very true."

…

Iceland was snooping through his brother's home. It seems that, ever since the meeting, Norway had been avoiding him. And he didn't like it.

Iceland had green eyes and white hair, just like his brother. He wore a simple blue shirt with blue shoes and sneakers. He had a puffin on his shoulder, the creature silent, as usual.

When he saw his brother, his face split into a huge grin and he ran closer to his brother.

"Big brother!" he called.

Norway jumped and turned to face his brother, an unusually annoyed expression on his face.

"How many times have I told you to not call me 'big brother'?" Norway said. "It's embarrassing."

"There's no one else here," Iceland said, unfazed by his brother's harsh tone. "So, whatcha doin'?"

Norway turned his back on him, surprising the younger.

"I'm really busy," Norway said. "Please, just go. And don't bother me for a while."

Iceland stared at the Norwegian's back, no longer smiling. He didn't understand why his brother didn't want to spend time with him. And he didn't understand why the normally cheerful Nation was suddenly so cold.

…

"Is there anything else?" South Africa asked.

India sighed, knowing that it might be bad for them all, but he had to share what he had been told.

"I heard from my spies in the North," he began. "They had information that might prove problematic."

"What information?" Brazil asked, looking bored.

"Are the Northern Powers planning something?" South Africa asked.

"Not those three," India said. "According to my sources… Poland and Lithuania have been spending a lot of time together, talking strategy, doing research…"

Brazil sighed.

"They're about to play a game, aren't they?" he asked.

"Yes," India said. "Most likely. And it's going to be big. There are six others involved, including the magic trio."

South Africa's eyes widened.

"You don't think…" she started.

"Who knows," India said. "But we need to keep an eye on them."

"Have your spies keep us informed," South Africa said. "If they're playing with the North, then it's a bonus. If not, then we can consider it an act of war on behalf of the entire North. And we _will_ win this war."

**According to the UN, the Southern Africans are South Africa and four of the six neighbours. Mozambique and Zimbabwe are the two that are exempt.**

**I came up with the name South African trio after stumbling upon Namibia and Mozambique's old names. Namibia used to be South West Africa and Mozambique was South East Africa. 'German' could also be added before South West and 'Portuguese' before South East.**

**South Africa also has some Portuguese history, being discovered by Portugal in 1488. There also used to be a trading post in Mosselbaai.**

**Also, the question on how to send a missed call was actually something my grandma asked before.**

**There was a part in Australia's bit that referenced a Crocodile Dundee movie. I don't know which one, since I haven't actually watched it, but I've heard about the reference.**


	9. Chapter 9: Dreams

**Thanks to Dragonfire78 and Miss Akiyata for reviewing.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia.**

**Chapter 9: Dreams**

_Black seems to have a new strategy._

_By all means, Black should see if it would work._

_Would White be able to counter the strategy?_

…

Matthew sighed in annoyance.

Alfred had come, proclaiming that he needed a hero. He ended up eating the leftovers of the pancakes, since Matthew made more than usual, seeing that he had no idea how many Matt would want, and he had made himself comfortable on Matthew's couch, in front of the TV. It would seem Alfred had completely forgotten the purpose of his visit.

And now, Matthew wanted to get rid of the loud American, and he had no idea how to go about it.

"America," he tried, "um, it was nice of you to come and all, but I would like to be alone. I don't feel so well."

"Dude," America said, "how much better can it get than my heroic presence to make you feel better? So I'm staying until you're feeling better. Um, why are you feeling bad again?"

Matthew massaged his temples, feeling a headache coming along.

"There's a good chance that a psychopathic killer is around here," Matthew tried again.

"Dude, there's no way I'm leaving. I'm gonna help you no matter what. What kind of hero would I be if I didn't?"

Matthew groaned, before he thought of an idea.

"So, you're going to help me with _anything_, right?"

"Sure."

"Great. Then when this headache is gone, I'm going to need your help with hockey practice. I need a victim."

If America could compare himself to a hero, then it would be the Flash, for he was out of there in a flash, breaking the records set by the Italians in retreat.

…

Matt let a small smile grace his lips. He hoped that he would be able to do that again, for it was nice to meet Matthew in the flesh.

And he wouldn't mind having pancakes again.

Kumakazi came into sight, looking annoyed. Matt arched an eyebrow at this.

"What's eating you?" he asked.

"Mister Batter was here," the bear said.

Matt's happy demeanour, no matter how small it was, disappeared and he was scowling, as usual.

Looking towards a nearby window, which was just reflective enough, he saw that Matthew was having trouble with his own version of America.

He turned back towards the bear and fixed him with a stern gaze.

"Did he want something?" Matt asked.

"He just said to let you know that he was here. Which I did. Now, I'm going hunting."

Matt nodded his head. He would cook for him, if he _could_. The bear had stated on several occasions that he preferred fresh kill. And if he ate Matt's food, the bear claimed that _he_ would become fresh kill.

He suddenly remembered the animals in Matthew's world, and he suddenly felt that the pancakes were a mistake. He wasn't too used to sweet things, and the thought alone caused him to be hit by a wave of nausea.

Yes, he blamed the pancakes and maple syrup.

…

It was actually easier than he had anticipated. He could vaguely remember where he left it, so finding it was mere child's play.

Marius opened the book, searching for a specific page. Once he found it, he smirked, a cold harbinger that something bad would come.

He went over towards his mirror, where he was pleased to note that his intended target was asleep.

Easier than he had anticipated.

…

Lithuania looked at the unconscious body of Romania, feeling extremely worried. After finding him, Poland had called Toris, and the brunet was startled awake. The two of them carried Romania to his room and laid him on his bed.

Toris knew that he didn't just faint. He was forced into unconsciousness. He had seen the bruises on his neck as well.

But, who could have strangled him? There was no one else in the castle. And he highly doubted that their counterparts would have been able to do anything.

Steeling his resolve, he knew what he needed to do. He needed to stand in front of the mirror, and he needed to interrogate his counterpart.

…

Vlad couldn't believe what he saw. He hadn't seen it in centuries, but there it was, right in front of him.

The forest of death.

He hadn't seen it since the time of Vlad the Impaler. It reminded him of the atrocities he had done, but it also brought back a sense of pride. This was one of the greatest leaders at the time, and it managed to deflect the Ottoman Empire for a while. Turkey still tended to avoid him when the anniversary of this time comes up.

"Well, isn't this interesting?"

Vlad turned to come face to face with a pale reflection of himself.

"Marius," he whispered.

"Ah, so you know my name," the other said. "It saves me the trouble of introducing myself. Vlad, is it?"

Vlad took an instinctive step back.

"Where, how?" he asked.

"A little spell," Marius explained. "We're in your dreams. But don't think that I can't harm you."

"I know how these kinds of spells work," Vlad snapped.

"Good. So, this is a piece of your history? Tell me, who did this?"

"Vlad Tepes, an old boss of mine from when I was still Wallachia."

"So, this is _your_ doing? You're not the softy I expected. This is quite morbid."

"Yeah, well, he was an expert at psychological warfare. This sent Turkey into retreat where nothing else did. If you'd look closely, you'd see several of his soldiers hanging there."

"I can see. _Very _impressive. However, if you have to, would you allow something like this to be done again?"

Vlad didn't answer, and the other smirked.

"Tell me, have you ever consumed blood of others?" Marius asked, stepping closer.

"Nu, and I'm not about to," Vlad said.

"Really? Well, it was somewhere in the fifteenth century where I had my first taste. It was Poland's fault, really. He likes to play games with others, break them down mentally."

"Your Poland is definitely different from mine. Seriously, just a month ago he asked me to turn him into a little girl. How Lithuania puts up with that is beyond me."

Marius let out a cry, shaking his head.

"I could've lived without _that _mental image," he said. "But seriously, my Poland is one sadistic bastard. He captured me, chained me up. Once a day, he would give me something to drink. It would always be the blood of my people. You know, back then, I thought I could make a difference. I was wrong. He forced me to drink their blood, day after day. After a month, he started to increase the times he would give me blood to drink. And do you know what happened after two years of it? He just stopped. He released me, pretended as though nothing happened. But you know what? After two years, I started to crave blood."

"Ah, great," Vlad grumbled. "I've tried for years to shake off that vampire stereotype, and here you come and _ruin_ it."

Marius smirked.

"There is one thing I'm curious about," he said. "What does your blood taste like?"

Vlad's eyes widened, and he did the only thing he could think of.

He ran.

…

Lithuania took a deep breath before he turned to the object in question.

A mirror.

He managed to find a bathroom and locked the door. He didn't need Poland to interrupt, and he didn't want Romania to see what he was doing, should he wake up.

And his reflection didn't stare back.

He still saw the distorted reflection, but he was doing something with Poland. Seeing the blue eyes, Toris had to acknowledge that he didn't want to meet Poland's evil twin.

"What would happen should any of the Southern Nations find out about the game?" the other asked.

"We run away as fast and as far as possible," the other Poland said. "Seriously, Tolys, I have no intention of messing with the South. Besides, they'd consider them allies. You know how unified the Southern Nations are, and then we'd have _twice_ the amount of problems. And frankly, I may have played with most of the North, but I don't want them coming after me because I managed to get the enemies to become stronger."

Toris frowned. What was he talking about?

"Good choice," Tolys said. "And Felic, now I know that you actually have boundaries."

"Seriously, can you imagine _two_ South Africas?"

"Or two Brazils? That would be beyond scary, even if they are opposites."

"Anyway, do you think Romania managed to find that spell?"

"I hope so. I wonder, what would it be like to mess with someone else's dreams?"

Toris's eyes widened. Vlad was asleep, and if what he thought would happen, happened, then Vlad could be in serious trouble.

The bruises on the Romanian's neck came to mind.

And so, abandoning his resolve, he fled the bathroom, hoping that he would be able to help Romania, should it come to that.

…

Vlad could hear the footsteps of his counterpart, and it frightened him. Among the impaled bodies, the possibility of the other's cannibalistic tendencies did not look appealing. Not at all.

It was then that the unthinkable, but stereotypical and cliché and predictable thing happened.

He tripped.

And in three seconds, the other was on top of him. Vlad tried to struggle, but he paused when he felt cold against his neck.

"All I want is a taste," Marius said. "And if you keep struggling, then I might just slice into an artery. I don't want that now. Not yet."

Vlad forced his entire body to go still. It might be a dream, but it was Marius that set the rules. He was playing the other's game without knowing the rules.

Marius grabbed Vlad's right arm, and the brown-haired Romanian felt a cold wave of terror wash over his entire body.

The knife was removed, and Vlad closed his eyes, waiting for the pain to come.

He screamed. It burned more than it was meant to.

…

Poland watched helplessly as Romania started to scream and thrash in his sleep. He somehow knew that it wasn't fear, but pain that the other had in his voice.

Lithuania rushed into the room, looking as though he had seen a ghost. Once he saw Romania, his already pale features became even paler.

"Come on," Toris said, rushing to the bed. "We need to wake him. This isn't an ordinary nightmare."

"Like, how do you know?" Feliks asked.

"The other side," Toris said. "I overheard them talking about some sort of spell."

Poland decided that he would question his friend later. For now, they had a Romanian that needed to be saved from whatever terror he was experiencing behind closed eyelids.

…

Vlad no longer cared about dignity. The pain was too intense. It might have been a rule of the dream, but the pain was stronger than it should have been.

He was crying.

Marius had made a large cut on his arm, and had also added teeth. He was happily drinking Vlad's blood.

Vlad tried to struggle, but he felt extremely weak.

What made this worse was the vampiric act. Ever since that wretched book came out, he had to live with a stereotype. He had to live with the other Nations believing that half his people are vampires. He had to live with everyone thinking that _he_ was a vampire, all because of that one fang.

And now, he was forced to act as a victim to the act of vampirism. This was what hurt the most.

Marius released the arm, and it slumped besides Vlad.

"That was a nice taste," Marius said. "Perhaps, next time, we could do it for real?"

…

Lithuania looked at the other brunet with worry when he and Poland couldn't wake the magical Nation. It was serious, Toris knew, but what could he do?

He breathed a sigh of relief when the red eyes opened, but the relief was short-lived. There was fear mixed with the crimson.

"Like, what happened?" Poland asked.

Romania didn't answer, but he pulled up the sleeve of his right arm, and Lithuania paled at the sight.

It was a fresh wound that had just begun to bleed.

…

Marius smirked. He was still in front of the mirror, so he could see exactly what effect his little visit had on Vlad. Watching the other Poland freak out about the blood, Marius withdrew his cell phone and called _his_ Poland.

"Felic," he said. "I found the spell. And I tested it. It works. Shall we get together tomorrow?"

…

Norway sighed, disconnecting the call. He had to make sure that she would be okay with everything.

Greenland would be coming by the next day, and he asked England and Romania to bring France and Poland. The sooner they got to the bottom of it all, the better. He didn't like the fact that he could be watched any time of day. He didn't like the fact that there's the faintest trace of sadism in the other Norwegian's eyes, and also something calculating.

He hated it. It scared him.

At least it was no longer silent. The other Nordics had awoken, and they had deemed it pointless to search through Lukas's library for something that they did not know. So they went about their business as usual.

And now Lukas was stuck with the task of getting them out of his home when the others came. Convincing Greenland was tricky enough, and he didn't want to put up with the arguments that would inevitably come, should they see her.

After all, Norway didn't ask Denmark's permission, and he did not tell her that he was there.

He had his work cut out for him.

…

Poland had offered him vodka, to help calm his nerves. And it sort of helped. Romania was no longer trembling, and they had bandaged his arm. But how was it possible? Could they really cast a spell that would affect their counterparts in another world?

He still remembered the feeling of his blood being consumed. He would admit that his history often pointed to it, but he never experienced it for himself before. And he never wanted to experience it again.

The spellcaster would have to be awake for the spell to be used. And the one that the spell was used on was meant to be asleep. He didn't know the specifics, but he knew that a spell such as that would be tiring. The only defence against a spell such as that would be insomnia.

And, to be honest, he had no intention to go back to sleep.

Remembering the note he wrote before he was attacked the first time, he went towards his living room, and breathed a sigh of relief. It was still there.

He approached it, and he could clearly see the name scrawled on the sheet.

Canada.

…

They had arranged to meet the next day. Romania would adjust the spell so that it would fit their needs, and those without the magic touch would also be able to use it.

And their reflections would be too terrified to fall asleep.

…

When there was a loud pounding at his door, he immediately knew who it was. America, come to have a 'friendly' fight.

Matt reached for his hockey stick, smiling fondly when he remembered how Matthew had dealt with _his _America. And Matt approved of the tactic. He had never witnessed anyone run away so fast.

That was a memory he would cherish. If he simply changed the colouring, then it would be Allen running away, not Alfred. Oh, he enjoyed that mental image.

But now, he had to deal with an American who was obviously in a bloodthirsty mood.

He opened the door, immediately coming face to face with the red eyes of his southern neighbour, who smirked and held up his bat, making his intentions clear.

But Matt already knew that.

"Oh good," Allen said. "You're home."

…

Alfred was panting.

He had run quite a distance, but he couldn't quite remember why. It had something to do with…

Alfred's eyes widened, and he groaned.

He had left his car in Canada.

…

Matthew looked out his window before closing the curtains.

Alfred's car was still parked in his driveway, and he had a feeling that the other would either come and get it, or would call Matthew, asking _him_ to bring it to America for him.

That was, if Alfred could remember where he left it.

Canada looked into a nearby mirror, seeing that Matt was also having brother problems.

It just goes to show that regardless of differences, similarities could also be found.

He lay down on the couch, and Kumajiro snuggled up against his chest. His mind drifted back to the scene that he had stumbled upon earlier that day, and he felt himself grow cold.

Who was it? Why did they do it? What did they have to gain?

Trying to think of something else, his mind drifted to an old memory.

It was when France found him for the first time. Matthew had been shy, hiding behind a bush, and France thought at first that it might be a rabbit, even going so far as to say 'I will not harm you, petit lapin.' Matthew could still remember the shock that the other reflected in his eyes when he saw that it was not a rabbit, but a little boy. He could also remember the warm smile the other gave him.

France had asked where his parents were, and Matthew responded that he had none. After a few more questions, France realised that the little boy was a new Nation. He had offered for the young one to go with him, and he would be his papa.

But it didn't work out as well as there had been promised.

Matthew sighed, before he eventually fell asleep on his couch.

**So Marius tortured Vlad. The psychological torture hurt him more than the physical torture did. In the dreams their senses are heightened so that, should the 2Ps decide to attack them physically, it would hurt them more. There will be another chapter (that I immensely enjoyed writing) that has more dream torture.**

**And in case you're wondering, I don't plan ahead. I have a few things in mind, but how I get to that point is still to be determined, so I'm actually open to suggestions. It makes things interesting.**

**And, yes, there will be other OC Nations, either as part of the plot or comic relief, if only to break free from the tension. You'll be meeting Greenland in the next chapter, and her 2P will come in not long after. By the way, I'd like to hear which countries you'd like to meet, whether they're 1P or 2P. Helps me know what you guys want.**


	10. Chapter 10: Foggy Faces

**Thanks to Dragonfire78, BloodyLily16 and Miss Akiyata for reviewing.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia.**

**Chapter 10: Foggy Faces**

_It is comical that the pawns have no idea which piece is the king._

_For in their eyes, it is just another pawn._

…

Somehow, he had managed it.

He had gotten the other Nordics to leave for Sweden's house instead. He just had to mention that England and Romania were coming, and the other four made their way for the exit.

Apparently, they believe that weird things start to happen whenever the magic trio came together. Lukas had _no _idea where they got that idea. Except, perhaps, the time they had shrunk the other Nordics…

Norway's thoughts were interrupted when there was a knock on the door. He knew that England and Romania would be arriving through magical portal, so as to save time. And there was only one other person that he was expecting.

He opened the door to a girl that looked like she could be the same age as Emil. She had long, pale blond hair tied back in a braid. She wore a white fur coat with a black miniskirt, white leggings and black boots. Her eyes were a pale blue, and piercing nonetheless. She clutched several thick books, and she looked at Norway with a cold look.

"Thanks for coming, Greenland," Norway said. "Please, come in. the others would probably be here shortly."

…

Sigurd's eyes widened.

_That_ was Greenland?!

She looked a lot prettier than their Greenland. And, in spite of the cold look she gave Lukas, appeared to be a lot nicer that their Greenland. And what were those books for?

Oh well. They had to get to Poland's place as soon as possible, so that they could cast the spell that would hopefully affect all of them.

He was curious to see what Lukas would dream of.

…

Kumajiro was startled awake.

He wasn't sure what it was, only that his master was still fast asleep.

He heard a bump, and he knew that it could not be the Nation that he was using as a pillow. He tried to define a scent, but there was nothing.

He then saw something looming over Matthew, but before he could do anything other than blink, it was gone.

Being unable to smell the intruder, he was wary. There was a possibility that the other being was still there.

He lay awake for a little while, ignoring when his master started to whimper.

…

"You have got to be kidding me," Romania said, his face and voice void of any emotion.

"Yeah," Lithuania sighed. "He does that."

They were both looking at Poland, who had decided to wear a pink blouse with puffy sleeves and a ribbon that tied at the front. He also wore a black skirt, pink leggings and black Mary Janes. He even tied his hair into two pigtails. And of course, both were tied with a pink ribbon.

Poland pouted.

"Like, what's the problem?" he asked.

"We're going to Norway's house," Romania said. "For an important meeting. And you're dressed like _that_?"

"Like, why not? It could get under Felic's skin."

The two brunets paused, and Feliks smirked.

"He let slip that he could totally see me through the mirror, even if I'm like not in front of the mirror," Poland explained. "And, like, if he's my opposite, then he'd totally hate cross dressing. And to see _me_, his reflection, wearing this…"

"It would drive him crazy," Toris said, laughing.

"Wow," Romania said. "That's actually crafty, clever… Who are you and what did you do to the real Poland?"

Feliks frowned.

"I can, like, totally have my moments. Come on, are we going or not?"

Romania shook his head before he opened the portal. To be honest, he wanted to be there if Felic saw what Feliks was wearing.

…

"WHAT THE HELL?!"

Tolys groaned. Felic had gone to check what his counterpart was doing, and now he was screaming his head off.

He went towards the bathroom where Felic was watching his counterpart, and Tolys almost cracked a smile when he saw exactly what the matter was.

"I am going to _kill_ him!" Felic exclaimed. "How can he wear something like that? I mean, for crying out loud, he's wearing a skirt!"

"Add that to the list of reasons to hate him," Lithuania sighed. "Now come on. The others will be arriving soon."

Poland paused, his face blank, before an evil smile slowly made its way on his face.

"Then let's go greet them," he said.

…

"England, your beds are unawesome."

England scowled at the Prussian.

The truth was, he wasn't expecting so many people at his house at the same time. His siblings had separate rooms, but the bad friends trio were forced to sleep in the same bed.

And it wasn't a particularly large bed.

"Well, deal with it," Scotland said. "We have enough to worry about without you complaining about your bed."

They all turned their attentions to Spain when a crack was heard. Apparently, he had a few kinks to work out. France was the same. And Prussia was just stiff.

"If this is some form of punishment," France said. "Then please. Tell us what we did wrong."

England inwardly smirked. He may or may not have purposely given them the most uncomfortable guest room. In fact, the bed used to be used by a few of his former colonies when they were still children, and he simply could not get rid of it. So the bed had gotten uncomfortable over time.

"Whatever," Ireland said. "Could we please just get out of here? The sooner we identify the mystery Nation, the better."

England nodded his head, agreeing with his brother. They _really_ had to solve the mystery. Before it was too late. And something told him that there was a very real possibility that it might become too late.

…

Moldova hummed happily, on his way to his big brother's home. He wanted to tell Vlad about his new friend, and he wanted to show him what he would look like if he actually had money.

He was a little disappointed, however, when he noticed that Romania was not at home.

And he had no idea where he might be.

…

"Thanks for your trouble, Greenland," England said.

"No problem," she said. "It's good to know that the information I'd gathered would actually be useful. I think."

They were all in Norway's living room, the books she was carrying on the table. Each was labelled: North America, South America, Africa, Europe, Asia, Oceania, Micronations.

"Which Nation do you need to identify?" Greenland asked, waving her hands towards the books on the table.

"If we knew that, we wouldn't need to identify them," Scotland growled.

"Wait," Romania said, fishing through his pockets. Eventually, he found a folded piece of paper and unfolded it. "Check this one first. 'Canada'."

"Why Canada?" Prussia asked.

"Something on the news," Romania said.

Greenland picked up the book titled 'North America'. She flicked a few pages before showing the Europeans a page with a picture of a Nation that looked remarkably like America.

France and Poland gasped.

"That's him!" France said.

"Canada," Greenland said. "Twin brother of America. Partly forest, partly ice. Second largest landmass. Thirty-seventh most populated. Formerly known as Vinland by the Norse Vikings." Norway was startled at this. "Formerly a French colony before being ceded to England." France and England shared a glance. "Became independent after asking nicely. How he managed that is beyond me."

"Are you sure it's him?" England asked, looking at France and Poland.

"Oui," France said. "I'm sure of it."

"Like, so am I," Poland said. "He looks a lot like America."

"They're complete opposites, though," Greenland said. "As you all know, America is loud and obnoxious. Hard to miss him. Canada, on the other hand, is quiet and polite. He's easily overlooked. Even by Nations that are meant to be close to him. Like his former colonisers." She fixed France and England with a patronising glare, and they shifted uncomfortably.

"Do you know if he's at home?" Norway asked.

"Most likely. He'll probably be feeling the effects of several of his animals being butchered close to his personal home."

The others looked at her in surprise, except Romania.

"What?!"

…

"Canada?" Poland repeated.

"Do you think Mattie knows about this too?" Oliver asked.

"No idea," France said. "Did she really just say that the other Canada is quiet and polite?"

"Yep," Norway said. "And looks like your counterparts are bad parents."

"Should we ask Canada if he's been seeing his counterpart?" Spain asked, looking at Poland.

"First, we need to cast the spell," Romania said. "I didn't go through all that trouble just to have you forget, and it ends up being all for nothing."

"Romania's right," Poland said. "Besides, I don't think we should ask Canada. It might just be asking for trouble. And he _has _been more violent than usual lately."

"Think his counterpart could be the reason why?" Lithuania asked.

"Not sure. But, if we need to, we can observe the confrontation through the mirror. That way, we can get answers without the risk of being beat up by one of the strongest and most violent countries."

The others winced.

"Agreed."

…

Matthew awoke, breathing heavily. Something was wrong. Something was wrong in Canada.

He felt an ache in his chest when he tried to sit up, and he paused, gasping for breath. Eventually, he reached for the remote, turning on the Canadian news. He needed to find out what was going on in his land.

"Things are looking bad for us all," the anchor-man said. "Between midnight and sunrise, a mass murder struck Toronto. Reports claim that over a thousand people had been killed. It is possible that there was more than one…"

Matthew stopped listening, eyes wide in horror. So many of his people died during the night. And not because of a war, or a disaster, but because of murder. Could it be possible that whoever was responsible for the animals was responsible for the murders in Toronto?

Regardless, Matthew ran for the bathroom, dry-heaving into the toilet, until eventually it became blood. When it was finished, he broke down in tears.

No Nation wanted to know about something like this.

…

Matt instinctively knew that something was wrong.

He was covered in bruises, and there might have been a few potentially broken bones, but Allen was in more or less the same state.

But this had nothing to do with injuries. It was something deep within his bones. It felt similar to whenever something was wrong with his land.

His eyes widened, and he dashed towards the bathroom mirror, where he saw Matthew slumped on the floor of his own bathroom, crying about something or another.

But Matt knew that it was something truly serious. There were specks of blood around Matthew's mouth, and he was breathing heavily.

Placing his hand on the mirror, he applied pressure to the glass, feeling himself slip through. A few moments later, he was in Matthew's bathroom.

Matthew jumped in surprise and turned around, eyes wide. He relaxed slightly when he saw who it was. Matt was startled when Matthew launched himself into his arms, sobbing on his shoulder. However, he eventually wrapped his arms around the smaller Canadian, offering the comfort that he apparently needed.

"What happened?" Matt asked.

"My people," Matthew sobbed. "A thousand of them were killed in Toronto."

Matt stiffened. While the Nations of his world didn't particularly care about their people, unless of course other Nations were involved, the Nations of Matthew's world were closely connected with their people. And they could feel when something like that happened. And it hurt them.

And for something like that to happen in one specific location, it truly caused them pain.

"Come on," Matt whispered. "I'll go make you a cup of tea."

Matthew's tears stopped, and he looked at Matt oddly.

"What?" Matt responded, knowing what the look was for. "I may not be able to cook, but I know how to make a decent cup of tea. And hot chocolate. And coffee."

Matthew didn't reply, but he allowed Matt to lead him to the kitchen.

…

England searched through his contacts list, finally finding what he was searching for. He pressed the 'call' button, and placed the phone against his ear.

The phone rang, and rang, and rang, and then finally he was connected to voicemail.

England huffed, putting the phone aside.

"No answer," England said.

"Are you even sure he's awake yet?" Greenland asked, a smirk on her face. "After all, it's still really early at his place."

The Europeans paused, having forgotten about the time difference. Greenland's smirk widened.

"Wait another hour or two," Greenland said. "Shouldn't be too bad. Now, could you please tell me what's going on? Because I think I missed something."

"You'll like totally think we're crazy," Poland said.

"Try me."

They attempted to explain, but with Greenland's face looking as blank as it did, they had no idea whether she believed them, or whether she thought they were completely out of their minds.

Meanwhile, Prussia went towards one of the books. Specifically, the European book.

There was silence as they allowed her to absorb the information. Finally, she sighed.

"And you really expect me to believe something like that?" she asked.

"Like, told you that you wouldn't believe it," Poland said.

"I'm going to need more proof that something supernatural is going on," Greenland said.

"There's something else," Lithuania said, turning to Romania.

Vlad squirmed under the gaze, and then sighed, loosening his collar and revealing the bruises on his neck.

"This happened yesterday," Romania said. "I was attacked by something that I couldn't see. And then afterwards…" He lifted his sleeve, revealing the scar. "This happened while I was asleep. Somehow, my counterpart found his way into my dreams, and managed to do _this._"

They could tell that he was hiding something, but they didn't press for more.

"Dreams?" Norway repeated. "That doesn't sound good."

Greenland pursed her lips, frowning slightly.

"I'll check my sources to see if I can find something," she said. "Although, it seems a little out there, but I'll try my best to get information."

…

Matthew cradled the cup of tea his counterpart offered him. He had taken a few sips, and he had to admit, it wasn't too bad. A little on the strong side, but right now, he needed it.

"So," Matt said, sipping from his own cup of coffee, "what were you saying about the people in Toronto?"

"A thousand of them were killed," Matthew said. "It all happened overnight. And I slept through it all. My people were murdered and I slept through it. Just like I slept through the animals being slaughtered."

There were tears streaming down his face. It was the guilt that affected him most of all. He was supposed to know what was happening to everything in his lands, and he had no idea that it was happening. That his people were killed, seemingly without a purpose. Unless one of the other Nations decided to launch a pre-emptive strike. Unless they wanted to start a war. But he couldn't think of anyone that even remembered him, let alone had a reason to start a war.

It just didn't make any sense.

"I know what would get you out of your glum mood," Matt said. "A game of hockey. That is, if you're up for it."

Matthew nodded. The truth was, he really wanted to get his mind off things.

That was when he heard someone at his door.

…

She never left America. Her boss wanted her to do a few things there, so she stayed after the meeting.

And then she heard what had been happening in Canada. So, with a rental car, she had driven through the night. Thanks to the difference in time zones, she could hold on. She managed to hear about the new development in Canada, and she grew worried.

She knew that most Nations tended to overlook Canada. And she knew that, when in a certain mood, she would purposely ignore him. That was what happened when one was purposely ignored for several decades. And it didn't help that when she was born, she was unwanted. It took more than a century and a half for any of the older countries to want to claim her land as part of their own. To raise her, and help her grow.

Eventually, she was handed over to another Nation, one that she didn't like. She moved further inland, but he would not leave her alone. There were two wars that broke out. The first lasted a little over three months, and the second lasted for almost three years. She had to surrender, if only to save her women and children. She and her people still resented England for the war. And, while she didn't hate them, she still remembered in perfect clarity which Nations were on which side. She still kept contact with some of the Nations that supported her. And she even managed to befriend those that were on England's side.

Canada was one of them.

One of the things about that war that made her laugh, though, was the fact that Ireland was on her side. He was a part of the United Kingdom, but he didn't help his brother. But she made a friend with him, much to the chagrin of England. The two of them started the nasty tradition of messing with England at the Commonwealth meetings.

She smiled fondly. South Africa didn't hate Canada for his participation. She didn't hate anyone that was a part of the British Empire asides from England. In fact, India was one of her best friends. She had a soft spot for Canada. The first boss she ever liked, the first that the other Nations liked, was an honorary Canadian citizen. He was among the first things that people around the world thought of when 'South Africa' was mentioned. The connection was deep, and she could not forget it. She never forgot anything, and that meant that she could hold onto a grudge for a long time.

She finally arrived at Canada's house. She took out her keys, searching for the one that opened the Canadian's door. She, Australia, Canada and New Zealand had given each other spare keys to their homes. She also had a spare key to Brazil and India's homes, and they had a key to hers.

And so, she placed the correct key into the lock, and entered the house. She went for the kitchen, having a feeling that he would be there. But she didn't expect to see someone that looked like him to be there with him. And it wasn't America. She would have dismissed it as him being another look-alike, if not for one thing.

The curl.

No one had exactly the same curls. That was unique to each Nation. Not even Nations that resembled each other had the same curl. She could only come to one conclusion: This was another Canada.

And so, she did the only thing she could.

She fainted.


	11. Chapter 11: Explaining

**Thanks to Anon-chan, Miss Akiyata, Dragonfire78 and BloodLily16 for reviewing.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia.**

**Chapter 11: Explaining**

_It is the duty of players to explain to non-players how the game works._

_Even if they themselves have no idea._

…

The two Canadians stared at the blonde girl lying unconscious on the couch. They had moved her, not thinking it wise that she remain on the cold floor. Matt also didn't want to test this South Africa's temper. He was already afraid of one, and he didn't want a reason to fear the other.

"I think it's best that I leave," Matt said.

"What?" Matthew asked incredulously. "You would leave me to explain on my own?"

"Hey, you could always convince her that she was imagining it."

"I don't think that's going to work."

"It's worth a try."

They looked back at the other Nation, and the time to think of a plan was over.

Her eyes were open.

…

The eight of them remained. Greenland had already left, but they decided that they would wait a little longer before they called Canada again.

"Like," Poland suddenly said, "is this really the kind of thing to, like, ask over the phone?"

The others looked thoughtful.

"You might be right," France sighed. "But, unfortunately, I can't remember where he lives."

"Like Greenland said," England said, "second largest landmass."

"But we need to ask him," Scotland sighed.

"Arthur," Ireland suddenly said, "when is that Commonwealth meeting?"

England looked thoughtful.

"About a week or so," he said. "Why are you…?" His eyes widened. "Of course. Canada is a member of my Commonwealth."

"Then that would be a great opportunity to ask him," Wales said.

"So, we wait for another week?" Lithuania asked.

"It would appear so," Romania said.

They said nothing after that, but they would occasionally glance in Romania's direction. They were all thinking the same thing.

What could happen in a week?

…

"They're confusing," Oliver said, pouting. "First, they want information as soon as possible. Then, they're willing to wait a week."

"I know," Sigurd said. "Can't they just make up their minds?"

"It doesn't matter," Marius sighed. "Soon, we will have full access to the deepest corners of their minds. Their subconscious. The most brutal place to strike."

"And that makes things all the more delicious," Felic said. "Now, come on. I really want to teach that blondie a little lesson."

The magic trio had drawn a magic circle, and it was glowing in a red light. Locks of hair were provided for the centre, making sure to involve the other five as well. They couldn't get hair of their intended victims, but they had made sure that beneath each lock of the others' hair, a shard of mirror would act as a connection to their targets. In the case of Romania, England and Norway, they each had a mirror shard in their hands.

They will ensure that they could play the game to the best capacity.

…

South Africa was sipping on a mug of hot cocoa. She had refused to drink the tea and coffee. She kept a wary eye on both Canadas, noting that they seemed to be at a loss to explain what was going on. She had demanded that they explained, and she will make sure that they do.

She still couldn't grasp the fact that there were _two_ Canadas. She knew they could not be twins, and she knew that they were not dual representatives. And she knew that one Canada was the one that belonged, while the other had no part in their affairs.

She also noticed that for some reason, the angry-looking Canadian chose to stand as far away from her as possible.

"I've been driving from America to Canada all through the night," she said, growing tired of the silence. "I haven't slept at all. And now I'm seeing two Canadas. I demand an explanation from the both of you."

It was the stranger that sighed.

"First," he said, "call him Matthew, and me Matt. We're the same person, but at the same time, not. We're each other's reflections."

She nodded her head in slight understanding, demanding to know more.

"A few months ago, I started to see Matt in the mirrors," Matthew explained. "Yesterday was the first time he managed to come through to our world."

"My world is like a mirror image of yours," Matt explained. "Most of the Nations in my world are insane. The others are mostly violent. But the point is, our personalities are, in a nutshell, the opposite of yours."

She nodded.

"So tell me," she said. "Why do you keep your distance from me?"

Matt snorted.

"Because your counterpart is one of the only Nations I'm actually scared of," he said. "She's cold and calculating, and it's impossible to determine when she's in a bad mood. When you make her angry, then she will give you her full attention when it comes to punishment. And she could get pretty creative. She puts her animals to good use, among other things."

"Wait," she said. "Did you say that she gives full attention when she's in a bad mood?"

"Yeah."

"That's the opposite of what I do," she mused. "Whenever I see another Nation when I'm in a bad mood, then I get flashbacks of certain events involving said Nation. In order to stop myself from beating said Nation to a pulp, I actively ignore them."

The two Canadians were silent.

"What do you mean, 'actively ignore'?" Matt finally asked.

"I mean, I will purposely act as though they're not there," she said. "Kind of like how the rest of the world treats Matthew."

"Wait a second!" Matt snarled. "You do that _on purpose_?!"

"I can't forget about Matthew," she said. "Remember, a South African can hold onto a grudge for a long time. And Canada's involvement in the Second Boer War kind of brings up bad memories."

"My first official overseas war," Matthew said. "Um, you still remember the reason for my involvement?"

"Of course. And I don't appreciate being considered 'backwards'. And thanks to my bosses' decisions during Apartheid, it has become like that, and it's even worse than before."

Matt gave Matthew a confused look, and Anika took note of that. And Matthew noticed that South Africa noticed.

"Our histories aren't exactly the same," he explained. "I don't think your counterpart would have a reason to hate him."

"Other than me being a Northern Nation," Matt said.

"What does that have to do with anything, asides from the fact that you guys tend to be arrogant jerks?" she asked.

"The Cold War in Matt's world is between North and South," Matthew explained. "It's still ongoing."

"And the South has the upper hand," Matt said. "They have weapons and magic that the North can't ever get."

"What about the magic trio? They're North," South Africa asked.

"Yeah, but they have the power of the lands. Alida likes to use her land as an example."

"Alida?"

"The South Africa of my world."

"Okay. Now, Matt, what are you doing here?"

"Checking on him. I can see him whenever I look in a mirror, or any reflective surface. It's hard not to notice that he's upset."

"You said that our histories aren't intertwined. Name a difference, asides from the Cold War."

"Tell me, were you raised by Portugal?" Matt asked.

Anika snorted.

"No," she said. "He was afraid the first time he saw my land. Called me the Cape of Storms. And thanks to a misunderstanding with my people, and a bit of a rainy day, he told all of Europe that I wasn't a place worth going to. No, I was raised by Netherlands."

"There's a difference. From what I know, our Portugal saw the land as having a lot of potential, and immediately decided that he would claim that land as his own. He found Alida, and he then took her in. But, seeing as he's not exactly the most stable of Nations… Anyway, that happened in 1488…"

"That was the time that Portugal found me," she said. "But he wanted no part of me."

"Netherlands took over in 1652."

"That was the year that Netherlands colonised me. Wait, so the main difference is the fact that while I was unwanted, she was sought after?"

And it was around that time that she was born. Was it possible that because the other South Africa became a colony at that point in time, she was born as well? That would explain why she had felt so alone, all that time…

Well, she had her mother, and her siblings, even if they didn't want to spend a lot of time with her.

"Tell me more," she demanded. "Like anything that I could use against England."

…

Arthur shuddered. For some reason, he felt as though someone was looking for something to use against him.

…

Oliver frowned. He felt as though someone was about to divulge information about him that could be used by an enemy. An enemy that he did not yet know about. But one that had an obvious grudge against him.

…

Greenland sighed, pulling out her phone. Her connection with Denmark gave her a fortunate advantage with the Nation that she wanted to call. Something else as well, but it didn't call for that. She just hoped that the other was in a good mood. Luckily, the time zones made it acceptable to call the other at this time.

"Come on," she whispered.

"_This is South Africa,"_ the voicemail said._ "I'm not available right now. I am either trying to help Zimbabwe with his cold, trying to help another African with something, being forced to a bar by Ireland, Denmark or Russia, or I'm otherwise occupied. Please leave a message and I'll get back to you."_

She groaned, but smiled at the part about Denmark. Having a drinking age of eighteen, the South African was constantly bothered by the Dane, as well as others. Oh well, she could just call again later. Greenland knew _other_ Nations that would be able to help her gather information.

…

There was one final flash, the light the colour of blood. And when it faded, the magic trio were smirking.

"It's done," Romania said. "Now, whenever they're asleep, we will be able to gain access to their dreams. See all the worst points in time. Play with them where they couldn't escape."

"Excellent," Poland said. "You did well."

Romania nodded, before he frowned.

"When I went inside Vlad's dream," Marius said, "I saw something that I didn't expect from someone like him. He was in a forest full of impaled corpses. And then I found out that it was _his_ doing. And the pride he felt…"

"Seems we underestimated them just a tiny bit," Tolys said.

"But the mentalities then and now are very different. For one, he would never do it again, whereas I would like to give it a try."

"By all means, go for it," Felic said. "Just keep it to the humans."

"Oh, I plan to."

"I wonder, does Artie have a history like that?" Oliver asked.

"Only one way to find out," Sigurd giggled.

…

Ireland pulled out his phone. He needed a drink, and he didn't want to have one with his brothers. It tended to get too messy. So he searched his contacts for someone that he could drink with, only to be disappointed by the sound of voicemail.

"Just my luck," he muttered.

He then called another number, and was pleased to hear the other Nation pick up.

"Hello Namibia," Ireland greeted. "Tell me, where's South Africa?"

"She had business to take care of in America," the female Nation said. She knew why Ireland called. "But I'll tell her that you called. Something tells me that she would be more than happy to have a drink with you."

"Do I really drag her out drinking that often?"

"She knows how to brew her own beer. You and Denmark enjoy using that to your advantage."

"Well, thanks anyway."

He sighed, hanging up the phone. He had hoped to go out drinking with the lovely blonde, but he failed. South Africa does know her alcohol, and she also made decent whiskey. And, if he had to, he'd rather get wine from her than from France. She wasn't as flirtatious as the French Nation, and she didn't insinuate anything.

…

"Alida has a lot of fertile ground," Matt said, "but she doesn't plant a lot, except for food. That's the only thing that she grows. No other plant can be seen anywhere."

"Major difference," Anika muttered. "I pride myself for my floral kingdom. What about the Namaqualand flowers?"

"The… what?"

She groaned, disappointed. The Namaqualand helped her earn the place as having the richest floral kingdom. She _seriously_ needed a chance to chat with her counterpart.

"She also has one of the strongest militaries in our world," Matt said, and Anika instantly perked up. "She's one of the few Nations that can inspire _loyalty_, without fear. Her people are loyal, and her allies are loyal. Although I have my doubts about Zimbabwe. He's known for fleeing at the first sight of trouble, and betraying his allies."

"Mine just annoys me with that cold of his," Anika muttered. "Second weakest economy in the world, and he's my neighbour."

"Where do you rank?"

"I'm a rising power."

"She's also the fifteenth most populated Nation."

Her eyes widened.

"Fifteenth? But, I'm twenty fifth!"

"She's one of the few Nations that _doesn't_ kill her people for fun," Matt said. "And a lot of the humans prefer to move to her land. Her population is around a hundred million."

Her jaw dropped. That was almost twice the number of people that she had.

"What about you?" she asked.

"My population is the thirty eighth highest in the world. And normally, the ones I kill are poachers. For some reason, Alida doesn't have that problem. Probably because she trained her animals to kill on sight whenever someone with weapons of any kind are too close. And only the Nations know that."

"I see," she said. "Who are her friends? Does she have any?"

"The Southern Powers. India and Brazil."

She smiled, happy to know that there was a similarity.

"Any wars?" she asked.

"Asides from the Cold War?" Matt enquired. "Let's see. She was involved in Brazil's War of Independence, India's takeover of Israel, and then there was the war with England that lasted about three days. All of the wars she participated in ended in victory for her and her allies. Oh yeah, let's not forget the War with Netherlands to get her independence, the war with Russia, the war with Italy…"

"Okay!" she said, just a little irked that her counterpart was so successful.

"Do you understand why she scares me?" Matt asked.

"I have an idea. Now, what can I use against England?"

Matt's expression darkened.

"He's cannibalistic," he said. "He likes to bake people into his cupcakes. And if he doesn't have someone on hand, then he poisons the cupcakes."

"As though Arthur doesn't do something similar with his scones," Matthew muttered.

"The difference is, Oliver _knows_ how to cook. He's actually pretty good, if he doesn't slip in something nasty. And he's too damn cheerful all the time. And whenever he gets together with Norway and Romania, then you know that it's time to hide."

She nodded her head, making herself comfortable. She wanted to know more, and she was about to.

…

She shook her head, trying to decipher the image she had seen.

For a brief moment, she found herself in a living room. It was surprisingly warm and comfortable, and it was bright. She rested on something soft, but she didn't mind.

She also saw two figures that looked identical to each other. One she knew for a fact was Canada, the other she wasn't so sure of.

But if Canada obtained allies, then she needed to know about it. She needed to know who the Nation is, for he was a Nation, and she needed to know how much of a threat the Nation was. She needed to know the connection.

She picked up the phone that she rarely used. It was reserved for a select few Nations, and she didn't need the discovery to be made. The phone was used so that her Northern spies could reach her.

She was still searching for any spies among the Southern Nations, without much success. Either there are no spies, or they are just so good with hiding their tracks.

"I have a little job for you," she said into the phone.

…

"One more thing, before you go," Lukas said, looking at England and Romania. "There's something I need you to look at."

The other two shared a glance before they followed their friend towards his secret library.

"Look at this," Lukas said, showing them a certain passage in a book.

"'Protect the original'?" England enquired.

"Does this have anything to do with what we're dealing with?" Romania asked.

"I'm not sure yet," Norway said. "But, don't you guys get a strange feeling from those words?"

"Now that you mention it," England said. "Yes, I do. It seems as though there should be more."

"So, who's the original?" Romania asked. "And the original what?"

"That's what we need to find out," Lukas said.

…

She had received the orders, and she would follow them through. She had to be stealthy, otherwise things might be disastrous if they found out.

She had short white hair that stood up at the ends. Her eyes were green, just like her name. She wore a plain black skiing outfit, and she had several scars across her face that almost looked like claw marks. Her torso was also covered with the scars, as well as both her arms.

But she was good at what she did. She was an excellent spy, and a ruthless fighter. And right now, she had a new target. She didn't know why she had to spy on him, but she would follow the orders nonetheless.

For even though she was a Northern Nation, it was the South that had her complete loyalty.

**OK, so South Africa takes a childish approach when she's angry, but that's because a lot of the battles from the Boers' end were guerrilla tactics, and the Zulus liked to use numbers. She takes after the Boers, and due to the name 'Cape of Storms', she has a stormy temper. She knows that she can't take on another Nation directly, so she ignores them until she's calmed down.**

**As for why Greenland called **_**her**_**, it will be explained in Chapter 14.**

**The part about South Africa brewing her own beer is a reference to the sjebeens, which are places where one can have a drink in a township, kind of like a bar. It is common for beer to be there, and other than the standard beer that is sent there, it is also sometimes brewed by the woman that owns the sjebeen, known as the Sjebeen Queen.**

**South Africa has formal relations with Denmark, Ireland and Russia, and I think they would like to pull her to a bar. Namibia is South Africa's next door neighbour, and was once annexed by South Africa. And as I've mentioned before, they're sisters, so it makes sense that Ireland called her to hear about South Africa.**

**I've also got a poll on my profile that would help me determine which canon characters you would like to see. I didn't involve the Axis or the Allies (they are bound to play a role eventually). I also didn't add the characters that I already got that would play a role, like Moldova, and I've also started adding Bulgaria. As for non-canon characters, leave a review. I've also got a poll to see if anyone would want to read about the history of South Africa. Since I have South African history this semester, writing it would be a good idea to help me study.**


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